


From Lawrence to Los Angeles

by regardinglove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, Fighting, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lawyer Castiel, M/M, References to Dean/Other(s), Reunions, Road Trips, Teacher Dean, Underage Drinking, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 59,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5272499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regardinglove/pseuds/regardinglove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is finally going right for Dean Winchester. He’s got an amazing job teaching first grade at Carver Elementary, he’s landing one night stands on a daily basis, and he’s got a best friend in Benny Lafitte to boot. Everything is going perfectly…until the night Castiel Novak, his high school best friend whom he had a falling out with eighteen years ago, shows up at his apartment and demands that Dean join him on a reenactment of their road trip across the United States. The two then find themselves driving from Lawrence to Los Angeles, their trip filled with dive bars, one night stands, karaoke, diners, friendship, fireworks, and forgotten romance, all because of three words.</p><p>“Come with me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the summer of 2014, I was driving home from work when I thought to myself, "You know what would be a great AU? A Dean/Cas road trip fic." When I went back to my computer and didn't find a lot of them, I immediately began imagining a story to tell. 
> 
> That is how 'From Lawrence to Los Angeles' came to be, and I am so pleased that it can finally be posted for others to read. After over a year of writing, rewriting, yelling at my computer, and getting distracted by Tumblr, I present this work to you. I do hope that you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Before we begin though, I need to thank the people who helped me through this process. First, thank you to my lovely artist, Bojo. Your art is brilliant and fits the fic perfectly. Thank you for bringing your talents to DCBB and choosing my fic out of the bunch. You are the greatest! I'd also like to thank my amazing betas: Sandra, Anna, Kat, and Lena. Without your help, this fic would still be a cacophony of unnecessary phrases and plot holes. Your work is why this fic is a good as it possibly can be, and your input was beyond valuable. 
> 
> And finally, thank YOU. You are taking the time to read this fic, and for that I am thankful. Thank you for reading, and remember, kudos and comments are love. 
> 
> A few notes you should be aware of: 
> 
> ~Dean in this fic was inspired by a combination of s1!Dean and demon!Dean. Yes, you'll want to throttle him at times, but I promise if you keep reading everything will work out. 
> 
> ~Homophobia is a big theme in this fic, so if that is an issue for you, you may want to sit this one out. 
> 
> ~Read the tags!
> 
> ~The fic alternates between 1997 and present day, which will be noted by the date before each part.
> 
> Link to art: http://padaleckhi.tumblr.com/post/133836515722/wayoffcanon-dcbb-2015-art-masterpost-from

 

A normal day in the life of Dean Winchester went a bit like this.

At six-thirty A.M. Led Zeppelin’s ‘When the Levee Breaks’ blared from across the room, and Dean rolled over with a groan. He stuck his head under the sheets and slept until the song looped, then with a grudge in his heart Dean got up to shut the damn alarm off. This was followed by a quick shower, getting dressed, leaving a note for the blonde (or brunette…or redhead…) that was probably still asleep in his bed, and a quick trip to Starbucks before sliding into the Carver Elementary parking lot at exactly eight o’clock.

He’d then stride into the tiny elementary classroom and try to perk up before his kids arrived, putting out vocabulary packets on each of their desks to start the day. The children piled in around eight-thirty, and then Dean was teaching a bunch of first graders about the magic of words by nine. The rest of the school day was filled with English lessons, counting legos, reading time, and even a group sing-along to ‘Baby Beluga’ before the bell rang at two-thirty. By three Dean was alone once again, and he turned up the classic rock station as he wrote ‘good job!’ on what felt like a thousand crumpled homework papers.

At three forty-five, Dean’s best friend and Carver Elementary chef, Benny Lafitte, showed up with a wide grin, wondering about Dean’s dinner plans. Of course he never had any, Dean was not one to spend his nights at home, so the two of them headed out to Angelz, a strip club slash dive bar in downtown Lawrence at five o’clock. They watched as girls flung themselves across the stage to trashy music, and Dean even threw a few twenties at a blonde who was giving him bedroom eyes from the pole. He was going to get her for Benny, but it was a dark haired man from across the room who grabbed his friend’s attention, and the two of them were gone before seven.

Dean knew it was probably wrong; he was a thirty-six year old elementary teacher who was frequenting the nastiest strip club in town. He should be married by now and be thinking about kids and a future outside of Lawrence, but the minute the blonde he was eyeing got off her shift and slid up next to Dean at the bar, he forgot to care.

By eight-thirty Dean found himself pushed against his apartment door with the blonde sucking hickeys onto his neck.

By nine their clothes were off, and Dean groaned as the woman gave him mind-blowing pleasure, his body roaring like waves before a storm. He was flying, floating, more alive than he had ever been, and when it was over he fell onto the mattress, grinned at the blonde, pecked a kiss on her lips and asked, “So…what’s your name?”

Dean learned it was Pricilla.

The two took a long shower together and curled up in Dean’s bed, Pricilla’s head resting on his bare chest. They were asleep by eleven, and then the alarm blared again at six-thirty, signaling the start of a new day. He wrote this Pricilla a note and headed off to Carver, and so it went.

This was the typical cycle of Dean Winchester’s life, until the one day it wasn’t.

* * *

It all began on a Friday afternoon. The bell rang and all the children stampeded out of the room, their little arms filled with every school assignment they’d completed over the past year. A chorus of “Goodbye, Mr. Winchester!” echoed down the hall as they headed out to their buses, and Dean felt a little down that he wouldn’t see these kids until after summer break was over, and even then they wouldn’t be his kids anymore. However, Dean pushed it aside. With a little grin he walked over and flicked on his Bon Jovi CD, singing along to ‘Who Says You Can’t Go Home’ as he picked up left behind papers and forgotten crayons.

He was belting out the chorus when Benny appeared in his door a few minutes later, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that what you call grading, brother?” Benny asked in his Southern drawl, his lips pursing over the last word.

Dean hid his face and turned off the music, putting his collected items on the nearest desk. “I was getting to it…” he trailed off, but Benny could see through his act. He didn’t become Dean’s best friend by letting things slide by easily.

“Yeah, sure you were. Is that why you’re blowin’ me off tonight? To pick up bad drawings of rainbows and sing along to classic rock?”

He glared at Benny and pinned the offending picture to his desk, then leaned back against the wooden surface. “Hey, don’t insult my kids’ work. That’s the one thing I don’t stand for, buddy.”

Benny threw up his hands and walked backwards. “Okay, okay! I get it! Sorry, brother. I’m just wonderin’ what’s keepin’ you from the lovely ladies of Angelz? It’s not like you’ve ever refused before.”

Dean huffed out a breath and tapped his fingers against his thigh. “I’m just not feeling it tonight, Ben. Call me tomorrow and I’ll go with ya. I just need a night to really focus on getting grades in, okay?”

Benny playfully scowled at Dean but then shrugged. “It’s your loss, brother. I heard Jasmine’s workin’ tonight and if you’re not gonna make a move on her, then I will.”

Dean shooed Benny away with his hand and picked up the stack of papers on his desk. “Go, have fun. Bang that Jasmine and tell me all about it tomorrow. I’ll probably be asleep at my desk if you need an out.”

Benny threw Dean one last wink before leaving him alone again.

Dean looked down at the papers and grabbed a pen, but couldn't get himself to actually fill anything out. He was daydreaming about blondes in tiny bikinis and images of busty beauties with daddy issues throwing off their clothes. His body automatically tensed when he thought of the girl he had in his bed last night, a brunette named Lily that rocked his world.

Yeah, why was he turning down Benny’s offer again?

He picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number, his fingers flying over the keypad easily.

“ _Brother?_ ” Benny answered, and Dean could hear the grin in his voice.

“Benny! Save me a place at the bar,” he said, already grabbing his briefcase from behind the desk. “I’m calling dibs on Jasmine.”

* * *

At three in the morning Dean drunkenly staggered up to his apartment door singing ‘Back in Black’ as he fumbled for his keys. He groped in his pockets, not even flinching when he pricked his finger on the sharp edge of the metal; he just shoved the key in the lock and entered his dark apartment, his voice screeching as he sung out the chorus.

“ _Well I’m back, yes I’m back, well I’m back, yes I’m back-_ “

“You’re still singing that song after all these years? Get a radio, Dean.”

_No, it couldn’t be._ But it was. When Dean turned towards the voice, the one and only Castiel Novak was lounged on his couch, flipping through an issue of _Classics Weekly_. The little frown that was on Castiel’s face brought a pang to Dean’s gut, because it was the exact same look he got all those years ago after their infamous fight. And when Castiel brought those familiar, brilliant blue eyes up to his, Dean felt the past come back to him in full detail.

Suddenly, Dean wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He was back at the Roadhouse with his fingers clutching the bar as he discreetly took a swig from Ash’s flask. He was driving in the Impala with the windows rolled down on an eighty-five degree day, the wind blowing through his hair as he belted out the chorus to _Rambling On_. He was running through city streets and setting off fireworks and eating the most delicious diner food he’d ever tasted. He was living eighteen years in the past, his mind flying with images of cheap bars and country roads, high school graduation and classic rock, old friends and drinking games. He was lost in memories of the best and worst summer of his life, the one where he got into his newly acquired Chevy Impala and took to the road, his best friend by his side as they traveled the country. He cringed when less than pleasurable memories filled his thoughts, fights and heated arguments between friends overflowing until they never spoke again.

Well, until now.

“Castiel?” Dean asked quietly. “What…how the hell did you get into my apartment? What are you doing here?”

Castiel got up from the couch and made his way over to the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the fridge like he’d lived there forever. It should have made Dean angry, but it only brought nostalgia to his being. He took the beverage without thinking and popped open the bottle, taking a pull quickly. Maybe if he was a little drunker than he already was things would make sense.

“Castiel? Really now, Dean? You used to call me Cas; was our parting that destructive that you can’t call me Cas anymore?”

Dean took a seat next to his old friend on the couch and leaned back into the cushions. “We were friends then, but I think that title went away a long time ago. Are we friends, Castiel? We haven’t talked in years; I don’t think I deserve your friendship after what happened.”

Castiel averted his eyes and focused on the untouched beer instead. He fiddled with the top and clicked it off, taking a long pull before he looked at Dean again. “That was a long time ago, Dean. Can’t we just put it past us?”

Dean let out a snort. This whole situation was absolutely weird, and he wondered if he was passed out drunk at Sammy’s and this was all a dream. Why else would Castiel Novak be back in his life? Why else would the boy who said ‘ _Dean Winchester, you’re a coward and I never want to see you again_ ’ be in his living room? It had to be one big, alcohol induced dream.

“Why are you even here, Castiel? How did you even know I’m in Lawrence? You went to Yale and never came back. You got out, a feat most of us only dream of. Why?”

Castiel ran a finger over the rim of his bottle and fidgeted with the label. “I was missing home, believe it or not. I came back to visit Robin and then I saw an article about you in the paper. Teacher of the Year? That’s quite the accomplishment for the boy who said he didn’t want to go to college,” Castiel replied, and a light rose color appeared on Dean’s cheeks. “When I read that you were a teacher in town I assumed Sam was here too, and then it only took a little digging on the internet get his number. We got coffee, I told him about my idea for us, and then he gave me the spare key to your place. I thought you would be home earlier though…”

Dean studied Castiel intently. The boy who left him all those years ago was a man now, one with scruff and crinkles around his eyes. His voice was lower and he looked weathered with the new lines on his hands and face. He was thirty-six now, and that was enough time for Castiel to have gone out and traveled the world like he always said he would. He’d probably been to different countries, probably knew a few different languages. He’d probably taken the world as his oyster with his fancy law degree from Yale, and what had Dean done? He had frequented the strip clubs and had a one night stand record that would make Hugh Hefner jealous. But one part of Castiel’s explanation caught Dean’s attention.

“Plans for us? What plans?” Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow. “We have no plans, Castiel.”

The other man leaned back into the cushions and fiddled with his fingers, ignoring Dean’s probing gaze. “You may not have a plan, but I do. Why do you think I tracked you down, Dean? I have a proposition to make.”

Dean turned his head and studied Castiel, trying to figure out the hidden meaning in the words. “Okay then, just tell me. What are you thinking about?”

Castiel turned his full force stare on Dean. “Come with me.”

Dean stared back, open-mouthed, a thousand questions running through his head. After all they’ve been through, after everything Dean said, after years of being apart, Castiel wanted to run away with him? _Yep, I’m definitely passed out drunk somewhere. This can’t be real._

“Uh…ah…what?” Dean questioned, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Come away with me, Dean. I miss our friendship and I want to get it back. You’ve got the Impala, I’ve got the cash. Let’s recreate our 1997 road trip. We will travel from Lawrence to Los Angeles, visiting all the old hangouts and dive bars we frequented. We will go visit all the old sites, see all our old friends, relive the glory days. So…what do you say?”

“No.” Dean threw up his hands and paced the length of the living room. “No, no, no, no, no! You can’t just barge in here after eighteen years of radio silence and ask me to run away with you! I can’t do it! I won’t!” Dean ranted, and he didn’t know that he was twirling in circles until Castiel got up and put a hand on his arm.

“Dean,” he whispered under his breath, and the absolute peace he found in Castiel’s gaze made him pause. “I know this is weird and that we haven’t talked since the fight, but I’m ready to forgive and forget. The question is...are you?”

He looked over at Castiel and couldn’t ignore the enthusiasm he saw there. The man was practically beaming with pride over this idea, and he was fidgeting like a child going to Disneyland. Those bright blue eyes that could light up any room were glowing, and his brilliant smile still dazzled after all these years. Dean almost said yes, but then his mind caught up and he remembered why they stopped being friends, why they haven’t spoken, and if Dean was going to do this then he needed to give Castiel one hell of an apology first.

“Castiel…I want to say yes. I really do because I miss you too, but what if history repeats itself? We said some pretty nasty things to one another and I want to forget about that, but can you? I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry that I called you that horrible name, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you were just telling me the truth. I can forget about it; hell, I haven’t thought about that day in years, but what about you?”

He glanced up and found those blue eyes staring into his. All he saw was excitement and even a little bit of forgiveness, and Dean’s body relaxed.

“Would I be here if I haven’t forgiven you, Dean? We were eighteen and things were different back then. We’re older, matured. I’m positive that you wouldn’t say those things now…would you?”

“No, of course not,” Dean replied instantly. “I was a big, freaking douchebag back then.”

“You really were,” the other man laughed, “but I’m long past it. I do need an answer though. Are we going through with this trip or not?”

Dean ignored all the other thoughts that were racing through his head, at least the wise ones that were telling him that this was a horrible idea and was bound to end in disaster. He threw Castiel a wide grin. “Okay, let’s do it. You, me, and the open road. Just like the old days, right?”

“Exactly! Now pack a bag, Winchester,” Castiel said with a little grin. “We’re leaving in five.”

* * *

_June 7th, 1997_

“Dean, you look fine! You’re gonna be late for graduation if you don’t get your ass downstairs!”

Dean turned around from his reflection and took in the sight of his little brother. Sam was all grins, his perfectly pressed shirt looking way nicer than the suit their mother forced Dean into. He rolled his eyes at Sam and knocked one shoulder into his brother’s arm as he walked by. Sam was all too eager for this day, way more excited than Dean was anyway. To Dean, it was just a piece of paper that proved he finished his state mandated education. It wasn’t like he was winning any awards, and he barely passed senior year. Really, Dean didn’t get why his brother was puking rainbows over this.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Sammy,” he growled under his breath. He grabbed his black graduation robe off the dryer as he passed, his brother trailing close behind. “It’s not like I’m going to college in the fall or winning a Nobel Peace Prize. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal? You’re graduating high school, Dean! After all the crap that went down this past year, after all the times you said you were dropping out to work for Bobby full time, you pushed past it all and made it! Is it wrong that I’m proud of you?”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Sam always had him on a pedestal that he didn’t deserve to be on. He’s a grunt, a boy whose SAT score was barely high enough to constitute colleges sending him pamphlets. He was not special, and it broke Dean’s heart that Sam was aspiring to be like him. Out of everyone his brother could look up to, why him?

“Yeah, well, I’m awesome at pushing past the crap. I’m going to be working for Bobby full time now anyway, so I don’t see why this piece of paper will do me any good. Why am I even goin’?”

A hard punch landed on Dean’s arm and it pulled him out of his pity party.

“Will you shut up and let people be happy for once? Dammit, Dean! After all we’ve been through are you really going to get pissy over one ceremony? We lost Dad and Grandpa all in one year. This is the best thing that’s happened in a long time, so will you please just fake it for one day? If not for me then do it for Mom. Please?”

Ouch, that’s a low blow. His mother truly hadn’t been the same after the string of deaths that haunted the Winchester family over the past year. His father was the first to go, the lung cancer from his years of smoking finally taking him down after a long battle. He was so bad at the end that Dean was almost grateful for his father’s death. John fought valiantly and tried to never show the pain, but they all knew he was miserable and just wanted it to be over. Their grandpa followed shortly after, the grief of his son’s death too much to handle. If dying of a broken heart proved to be a real thing, Henry Winchester would be the prime example of it. Doctors couldn’t even explain his death. Despite his age, the Winchester patriarch was a healthy, vibrant, old dude. Yeah, his cholesterol was a little bit high, but not high enough to cause any major problems. It was almost as if he just faded away into nothing, like his soul was not content with living on earth without his wife and son in it.

“Dean?” Sam asked warily, pulling him back to the present.

“Yeah…okay. I’ll go through with this, but only for Mom. Not for you…bitch,” he said harshly, but Sam could see right through him.

“Jerk,” he replied, swatting Dean’s head with his hand. “Now get downstairs; Mom and Cas are waiting outside.”

His body jerked up at the name. “Cas? Cas is riding with us?”

“His parents aren’t coming to the ceremony. Apparently their church group went on a retreat this weekend that was more important than their kids’ graduation,” Sam said sarcastically, letting the discontent drip over his words.

“Figures. Listen, Mr. and Mrs. Novak may have been like a second family to us since birth, but they really treat their kids like shit at times. Who doesn't come to graduation?”

“Apparently the Novaks? I don’t know, Dean. They’ve always been a bit overbearing with the whole religious thing. Remember when Naomi tried to ‘bless’ me with holy water when we were kids because Cas and I made a blood brother pact?”

Dean laughed at the memory and followed Sam down the stairs. “Yeah, I forgot about that. Didn’t she also think you were possessed at one point?”

They slid into the kitchen and Sam grabbed two protein bars off the counter. He threw one at Dean and Sam opened his with his teeth, taking a bite before answering. “Not possessed,” Sam said around his food, “but influenced by the devil. I was hanging out with that Ruby chick who thought she was a witch. Remember her? She went around casting spells and tried to turn you into a toad.”

Dean laughed once, threw away his protein bar when Sam wasn’t looking, and pulled on his atrocious black robe. He could already feel the stares on his body, and he trembled with the bout of anxiety thrumming through his system. Dean could imagine the hot lights, the applause, the principal grudgingly handing Dean his diploma because let’s face it, Dean was always in her office during the school year.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked, coming around the counter to lay a hand on Dean’s back. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dean nodded and turned towards the door, his robe billowing out behind him. “Yeah, bitch, I’m fine. You coming?”

Sam sighed loudly and followed Dean out of the door, locking up behind them. They barely stepped five inches out the building before a flash exploded before Dean’s eyes, causing him to see stars.

“What the hell…” Dean muttered under his breath, but then the flash hit him again, harder this time. He recoiled back and blocked his eyes from the brightness, nearly causing Sam to stumble to the ground.

“Dean, honey, will you please stand still so I can take a picture of you?” Mary called from the driveway, all blonde curls and smiles. She was dressed in a floral dress and pumps that looked impossible to walk in, but the most remarkable thing about her was the glow in her eyes, one that hadn’t been there for quite some time.

“Mom…” Dean whined, “You know I hate pictures.”

Mary huffed out a breath and motioned at Sam. “Sam, go stand by your brother. I want this picture to be perfect.”

“You know perfection is not possible in anything,” Sam began to rant, but Dean punched him in the back.

“Shut up, nerd,” Dean growled playfully, and Sam jibed back.

“Cas, can you please pull these two apart?” Mary whined from the sidelines, and then out of nowhere strong hands were pushing the brothers apart, a new figure taking Sam’s place by his side.

Cas looked great in the robe, despite its hideousness. The black brought out the blue in his eyes, making them gleam brighter than usual, and his hair was tousled in just the right way. It was weirdly hot…

Dean shook his head and repressed the blush in his cheeks because he couldn’t feel that way, and Robin would kill him if she found out he was having those thoughts about her twin brother. He pushed Cas aside and ignored Mary’s calls for a picture, instead opting to climb into the front seat of the Impala.

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t get going. Not that I would mind…” Dean trailed off, but the others just laughed and climbed into the Impala with him, Mary taking her rightful place at the driver’s seat. Dean’d been itching to drive the car for years, but ever since his father’s death he didn’t dare bring it up. It was his Dad’s treasure, and it was one of the only physical things Mary had left of her husband. He would never try to take this away from her, ever.

The car ride went quickly and then they were all piling out at the school, excited students and parents running around. Cas’s robe got wrinkled on the ride over so Mary worked at getting out the imperfections while Dean and Sam began their trek to the gym. They didn’t get far before a pair of dainty hands reached up to cover Dean’s eyes.

“Guess who?!” a trilling voice called out from behind him.

He grinned underneath the grip and wrestled the hands off his face. “Let me guess…Jennifer Aniston?” he called back sarcastically. He heard Robin’s frustrated breath ring out from behind his back and he laughed, letting go of her hands.

“How are you, Robin?” Sam called from Dean’s side.

Robin’s hands wrapped around Dean’s belly and she leaned her weight against his back. “I’m good, Samuel,” she replied. “Your brother is a good pillow.”

Dean removed her grip and turned to face her. He was getting a full on Novak pout, one that was supposed to evoke fear in your gut but only ever ended up being adorable, like a puppy. Cas had it down too.

“Hey now, I’m not your personal pillow! Find another boyfriend for that purpose,” he joked as he gazed into her eyes.

She grinned back at him and leaned up to peck a quick kiss to his lips. The little zing that rang through his body made him want to take her out back to the bleachers like they usually did so they could get a quickie in before the ceremony, but she just shook her head no and took his hand instead, leading the way into the crowded gym.

The noise wafted out into the parking lot, Dean froze when they walked inside the room. Hundreds of eyes were trained on the stage where various faculty in fancy attire were crowded around a table of diplomas. Students milled about in their graduation robes and hats, talking excitedly as family and friends filed into the room. They all looked thrilled, something Dean couldn’t muster up even if he tried. Instead all he felt was dread in his gut, a gnawing twist turning last night’s dinner upside down. This couldn’t go well; Dean would mess up. He would probably knock down the table…or the principal…or hell, what if he knocked down the microphone and sent it spiraling into the groups of students? What if it got a guy in the head and he had to go to the hospital? What if…?

He would’ve thought of a thousand other excuses, but a strong grip on his shoulder caused him to calm down. Cas’s hand felt warm and reassuring through the fabric, and Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Dean, you’re panicking,” Cas whispered in his ear.

“Wha? No I’m not!” Dean lied, but his shaking body gave him away.

Cas pulled him aside, dragging him over to the side of the bleachers and turning so Dean couldn’t ignore his piercing stare.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Cas reassured Dean. “All you have to do is go up, grab your diploma, smile at the audience, and go back to your seat. No need for any stage fright.”

Dean attempted to calm down by listening to Cas’s words, but his racing heart was not cooperating.

“I can’t do it, Cas! I hate people looking at me. Worst fear in this damned world.”

Cas couldn’t hide the laugh bubbling behind his lips. “I thought you said flying was the worst fear?”

“Well…they’re both equally horrible. One requires you to stand up there like a museum display, and the other runs the risk of you crashing into the ground at a thousand miles per hour. Not exactly my idea of a good time,” Dean groaned.

“You’re going to be fine. If you need someone to focus on while you’re up there, look for me. I’ll be waving at you from the audience,” Cas vowed. “Dean, look at me.”

His eyes landed on Cas’s. “Man…”

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Cas interrupted, his hand coming down to grab Dean’s. “I’m here for you, Robin is here for you, your family is here for you. You deserve this.”

Dean gulped and gazed down at their cupped hands. Cas’s temperature always ran a bit higher than normal, and he was always a go-to when anyone was feeling cold. Dean lingered in the warmth radiating off of his best friend and wanted to lean into his heat, but Dean resisted the urge and pushed away.

“Don’t get all gooey on me, Cas. We’re guys; we don’t do that.”

Cas sighed and turned away from Dean, walking back towards the crowd. “You are your father’s son, you know that?”

“Damn right I am. Now get in your spot; the ceremony is starting.”

Cas just threw Dean an amused grin before walking over to the N section of the auditorium and  taking his place next to Robin. Dean watched the twins for a few seconds before turning towards the Ws. He tried to fool himself into believing that there weren’t that many people in the crowd, but when the quiet orchestra music turned into the grand notes of the processional, Dean felt his pulse speed up, regardless. He tried breathing easily, clenching his hands into fists, but nothing could offset the angry, loud rumbling of his nervous stomach.

Dean considered ditching. Would anyone notice if he just didn’t go up there to grab his diploma? After all the infraction notices that were sent to his house throughout the years, they’d know where to send the flimsy piece of paper that was up on the stage. He could just go out to the Impala, blast his father’s old cassette tapes, and lose himself in the beats of Zeppelin.

However, a voice from behind ended that plan before it even started.

“Move it, Winchester!” a boy called, and then he was being pushed along with the rest of the processional line. The eyes of the crowd flitted over his body, and it took everything in him to walk all the way to his chair without visibly trembling.  

Things went by quickly after that. The principal got up to make her grand speech about futures. Kevin Tran, the valedictorian, spoke about how they are they next generation and how they need to be the change in the world. Then, before Dean even realized it, the line of students moved up to the stage. Loud applause erupted as every student received their diploma, one face after another flying by quickly. Dean was too busy fighting off his urge to run back to his car that the only person he actually paid attention to was Cas. He forgot about his gross, sweaty palms for a second when Cas’ name was called and only bright, overwhelming pride took over as Dean watched his best friend smile for the camera, take his diploma, and promptly leave the stage. He was so intrigued by Cas’s easy movements that he completely missed Robin’s turn across the stage, thoughts caught up in the way Cas owned the gym floor. It looked simple when Cas did it; why was he nervous again?

Too soon for Dean’s taste, the Ws were being called. Walsh, Warrington, Wench, and then…

“Dean Winchester,” the principal called out, and Dean felt himself being shoved into the spotlight, his feet skittering on the slippery platform.

The brightness hit him first. It was like looking into the sun, white blinding him until his eyes adjusted. Then, the eyes of everybody in the room landed on his body. Every gaze was watching him, probably wondering why he wasn’t walking over to his diploma. But then, one face caught his attention in the crowd. Just like he promised, Cas stood up in his seat and threw Dean a wink and a smile. It was enough to make Dean forget everyone else. He walked forward and grabbed the diploma from the principal with a new confidence. One flash of the camera was all Dean waited around for, then he practically ran off the stage as the next name was announced.

He walked back to his seat with shaking hands and a racing heart, the smile on his face too big to contain itself. He did it; he got through the diploma line unscathed and now he was a high school graduate. Even though he tried to push it off like it was nothing, Dean had to admit that he felt pretty good in that moment.

“Congratulations to the Lawrence High School graduating class of 1997!”

Roars erupted as Dean threw his hat with the others, a laugh coming to his lips. It didn’t take long for the students to disperse into the audience, everyone seeking out their various family members and friends. Dean grabbed a random hat off the ground, there really was no way to tell whose was whose anymore, and shuffled off to find Sam and his mother in the crowd. However, he didn’t get far before Robin’s familiar weight fell into his arms.

“We did it! We’re graduates!” she screamed into the open air, a bunch of people turning in their direction.

Dean looked down at his girlfriend and pecked a kiss on her head. Cas appeared seconds later, his hair completely tousled from the now abandoned hat he wore.

_And it isn’t attractive at all...no...not at all..._

“Wow man, you look wrecked,” Dean commented with a grin.

“Oh hush, no insults today!” Mary chided from behind, replacing Robin in his arms. He leaned into his mother’s hug and felt her grin against his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“Hey! I wanna hug him too!” Sam whined as he fought through a crowd of people, his unusually tall stature sticking out above the rest.

Dean let go of his mother and took Sammy in his arms, relishing in the absolute pride he felt radiating from his brother’s embrace. He’s usually not one for hugging, or sharing feelings, or anything “chick flicky” for that matter, but Sam always brought it out of him.

“Okay, Samantha. Calm yourself. I couldn’t have done it without ya,” Dean said.

Sam pushed away and smacked Dean on the arm. “Like hell you couldn’t. You’re smarter than you know, jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean responded out of reflex. “Can we stop all of the feelings now and go home? I’m gonna gag from all the blubbering.”

“Actually, I have a surprise for you outside,” Mary said with a slight smile. “Follow me.”

Dean looked to Sam for some confirmation, but all his brother did was throw him a shrug. In unison, everyone followed Mary out of the school and into the parking lot, where more excited families posed for photos and gave gifts. It was so sappy, Dean could only hope that his mother didn’t go out and buy him an expensive gift full of sentiment, especially since money was so tight.

He was not expecting what was waiting for him around the bend.

“What the-“

“Surprise!” Mary yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “I know you’ve been eyeing it for years, and it’s what your father wanted.”

Dean blinked, then blinked again, trying to comprehend what was in front of him. No, it had to be an illusion, because there was no way the Impala was sitting there all polished and pretty with a giant purple bow on its door. It wasn’t…he couldn’t…

“Mom…this is too much,” Dean said in barely a whisper. “This was Dad’s last gift to you; I can’t take it.”

Mary walked over to Dean’s side and threw her arm around his shoulder. “Trust me, Dean. When you first got your license your father told me that he wanted to give you the Impala for graduation. It was only willed to me because he knew he wouldn’t be around to see this moment. The Impala was always yours, but now it’s just official.”

Dean could feel the eyes on him, everyone waiting for a reaction. But all Dean could do was stare at the Impala in awe, not registering that this car was now his. It wasn’t until Robin nudged him from behind that Dean walked towards the car, getting into the driver’s seat easily. The leather felt familiar but foreign at the same time; he grew up in this car but it never was truly his. The Impala was John’s treasure. The boys learned how to drive in Mary’s old Toyota because John didn’t want to risk damaging the Impala (and he was right to be cautious; Dean totaled Mary’s car the same week he got his license.) Now it was Dean’s, and everything felt right under his fingers.

“There’s something else too!” Mary called from outside.

Dean extracted himself from the car and walked over to his mother, pulling her into another hug. “What else could you give me after all of this?”

Mary lightly pushed Dean away and looked into his eyes. The glimmer there made Mary look ten years younger, like the past year melted away.

“Mom?” Dean asked when she just stared at him with that loving gaze.

Silently, Mary reached into her purse and pulled out a rectangular box. Dean took it from her outstretched hand and carefully undid the top, revealing a folded up cloth underneath.

“You…got me a tablecloth?” Dean asked as he took out the object.

Mary let out a trilling laugh. “No, silly. Open it up.”

Dean glanced down at the paper and flipped it up, revealing a map and seven envelopes underneath. Outlined in purple on the map was a line from Lawrence to Los Angeles, with stars marked as spots in between. He absentmindedly ran his finger over the path, realizing that each place was numbered, one through seven.

“Dad wanted to take you on a road trip when he gave you the Impala. When he was about to pass, he left this on our bed one day with letters…addressed to you.”

Letters? From Dad? Dean didn’t know what to think. During the last days of his father’s life, it was like Dean was dealing with another person. The cancer had turned him into a shell, a person who was not entirely there anymore. Dean’s mind raced with the possibilities of the letters, if possibly they were written before his father slipped away.

“Well, open up that first letter already!” Robin called from beside him, and Dean did. He carefully opened the envelope, which revealed a piece of his father’s worn journal. When Dean pulled it out, on the front of the page was old hunting techniques, and on the back was his father’s careful handwriting.

_Dean,_

_If you’re reading this, then I’m gone from this world. Don’t cry about it boy, because Winchester men don’t cry. I’m probably haunting your ass right now and you don’t even know it. Anyway, if you’re reading this then I’m not around to wish you a happy graduation, but if I was, I’d be telling you that I’m proud. You could’ve been like me, a high school dropout with six bucks to his name, but you didn’t take that path. You finished and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you._

_But that’s not why I’m writing you. If I’m not around, then I never got to take you on a road trip. It was always a dream of mine; I’d take you and Sam out on the road, do some hunting out in Wyoming or Arizona where real game lives. However, I know that’s probably not what you would want. That’s why I’m leaving you with the keys to the Impala and this map. It is marked with the different places I hit up when I was on the road over the years and each one has a little note to explain what I did there. Take a friend with you, go to these places, and remember me. (And don’t you dare take Sam; he’s too young for a few of these places. This is a trip for true men, and you’re one now.)_

_Live a little, boy. You’re too serious all of the time worrying about Sam, but you don't need to. He’s strong, even if I never told him that. Tell both Sam and your mother that I loved them, still will in whatever is after this._

_Son, I love you. Never forget that._

_Dad_

Dean gaped down at the paper for a few seconds before he looked into the expectant eyes of his family. Mary, Robin, Cas, and Sam all watched him with interested gazes, their bodies tense with anticipation.

He only laughed a little and turned to Cas.

“You wanna go on a road trip?”


	2. Chapter 2

_Present Day_

The headlights of the Impala lit the empty road as Cas and Dean took off from the apartment. Cas helped Dean throw whatever clothes he could find into an empty suitcase, ignoring the fact that Dean did not speak the entire time. The room was filled with buzzing tension, one that Cas wished to break but knew he had no right to. He was the one who didn’t come back, after all. He’s the one who ignored Dean’s calls and long voicemails of apology after the incident. He’s the one who walked away, so now he had to deal with the consequences.

After Dean deemed everything ready to go, they both climbed into the familiar Impala and headed out from the apartment. Funny how after all these years the car still felt like home. The leather under his hands was familiar and the smell of spilled whiskey and old cigarette smoke lingered. It reminded him of the last time he was in the car, traveling the country with his best friend at his side. He pushed aside the anxiety that rippled in his gut when he thought about the implications of this trip; he knew that this was the one chance he had to fix his relationship with Dean, and if he screwed up there’s no going back. He already left once; he couldn't do it again.

Cas’s thoughts were interrupted as a loud guitar solo blared from the speakers. He looked over to find Dean slamming his palm against the steering wheel, mouthing the riff as he hit the accelerator. The inky night flew by faster as the tune picked up speed, and Cas just watched as his (what? Friend? Acquaintance?) jammed out to the tune that was causing Cas’s ears to ring. With a sigh, Cas reached over and turned to dial to the right, landing on a much smoother pop station that didn’t make him want to throw himself out the car window.

“Cas? What are you doin’?” Dean said gruffly, knocking the dial back to its original position. The angry notes filled the car once again. “Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

“You still work off that rule?” Cas asked. “That’s…ancient.”

“Oh, really now? You never had a problem with it back in high school. If I remember correctly, you were quite a fan of my music,” Dean reminded him as he turned up the volume even higher, a familiar Van Halen tune filling the close space.

Cas rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. “Yes, I did, but that was eighteen years ago. C’mon, Dean. Have you ever listened to music from this century?”

“No need when you’ve got the greatness of Pink Floyd.”

Cas sighed again and leaned back in his seat, turning his attention towards the window. He glared at the passing lights and growled under his breath until Dean noticed.

“Are you gonna groan the entire way to the Roadhouse?” Dean questioned while he tapped his fingers along with the radio. “Because if you are then I’m turning this car right back around and you can get on the next flight back to…where are you living these days?”

Cas’s mind flew with the question. Where was home? Did he truly even have one? Ever since his law firm fallout,  he’d been living on Robin’s couch, but his pride was too big to admit that to Dean. Instead, he lied. “I don’t have a permanent residence,” Cas replied, hating the little twinge of sadness that came out. “Business takes me all over the world, so I have apartments in Belize, New York City, New Orleans, London, Prague-“

“Okay, Mr. Fancy,” Dean interrupted, turning down the radio. “No need to rub it in. We can’t all be lawyers, you know.”

Cas scoffed at that and laughed a little, trying to divert the conversation back to the truth. “You think that’s rubbing it in? I could name drop all over this car. I’ve defended Bill Gates in a worldwide lawsuit and I was a guest at Kim Kardashian’s wedding. Pointing out my worldwide locales is nothing.”

He expected a witty response, but instead only got Dean staring out the window into the dark night. They merged onto the freeway and the only sounds that filled the car were the rumbling of the engine and the tires rolling on rocky pavement. After a bout of awkward silence, Dean said, “Really? Kim Kardashian? Is she as hot as she seems in the magazines?”

Cas laughed humorlessly and moved his gaze to Dean, who still had his mouth clenched and his fingers tightly gripped around the wheel. It was such a familiar pose, he couldn’t help but feel nostalgic at the gesture. Years later and Dean still had the same mannerisms.

“You really haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Cas asked as he quirked an eyebrow. “Still going after unattainable women, driving this Impala, living in Lawrence. Haven’t you ever thought of getting out of there, Dean?”

Dean let out a harsh breath and scowled. “Are you gonna insult me this entire trip? Why even come if all you want to do is point out that I went nowhere while you traveled the world? And since you didn’t ask, I’m okay with living in Lawrence! I’ve got a great job, my family is here, and I’ve got five strippers on speed dial. Why fix something that isn’t broken?”

“I suppose,” Castiel replied, looking down. “But I don’t know…don’t you want something…more than this? There’s a whole world outside of Lawrence you’ve never discovered, worlds beyond the borders of this county. I could show you, Dean. I could take you to London-“

“I don’t want your pity,” Dean interrupted harshly. “I’m fine. I don’t need fancy trips and money from you. Is that why you came back? Because you pitied me?”

Cas paused and glanced out the window. Pity? Dean thought he was only here because he pitied him? If there was one thing he could never do, it was pity someone because there was nothing worse than feeling so low that a person had to look at you like a kicked puppy. No, he didn’t pity Dean, but the look on Dean’s face said that he thought differently.

“I don’t pity you,” Castiel said after a long time.

“Then why come back? Why find me again after all these years? Why this trip? Are…are you trying to relive the high school years, Castiel?”

He knew he should’ve answered, but he couldn’t. Cas couldn’t admit that not coming back to Lawrence after the fight, ignoring Dean and every friend he had in that town, was the worst decision of his life. He couldn’t explain the loneliness that has haunted him ever since his days of glory simmered into infamy. He couldn’t tell Dean about the fallout, couldn’t admit to his failings as a lawyer. He couldn’t tell his former best friend about how when they got back from this trip, he was going to have to file for bankruptcy and lose everything he boasted about earlier.

He couldn't admit that when his world came crashing down, Dean was the first person who came to mind when he was planning his next move.

Instead of answering the question, Cas reached over and turned up the volume to full blast, signaling the end of the conversation. Dean just growled under his breath and turned back to the road.

The arching air of awkwardness filled the car as they sped down the freeway, the sun beginning to peek above the horizon. Dean didn’t offer up any conversation and Cas didn’t either, the two sitting in silence as the guitar riffs of Zeppelin filled the blank space. Somewhere between Kansas and Nebraska, Dean asked if they could switch places and Cas complied, glad when the light snores rang out from beside him. When he was sure Dean was asleep, he turned back to the pop station and sung along with the Fergie song that was playing, whispering the lyrics to “ _L.A. Love_ ” under his breath. It took his mind off of the tension in the car. If Cas was being truthful with himself, he didn’t know what to do with Dean. He came here to forget about the present, but was he ready to deal with the past?

Cas pushed the thoughts aside as the sun rose in the sky. He could worry about that later; right then he needed to focus on the road and not letting his eyes droop shut. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone and called Ellen, telling her that they were getting close. He turned the classic rock station back on and tried to focus on the different notes being played. He even hummed along when an old Neil Diamond song came on, his lips forming the words easily. Cas did anything he could to keep the poking annoyance of his unsettled problems with Dean at bay.

It was a few hours past sunrise when Dean fidgeted in his seat.

“Where are we?” he grumbled under his breath, his eyes wheeling out the window.

“Nebraska, about an hour from Ellen’s. You were out for a long time.”

“Do you want a break from driving?” Dean asked, but a yawn followed the words.

Cas grinned. “No, I’ve got it. I’ll sleep once we get to the Roadhouse. I called Ellen and she’s expecting us,” he noted.

“Good,” Dean said. “Well, thanks for driving. I hope that the snoring didn’t annoy ya too much. I know that drove you nuts on our last trip.”

Cas laughed quietly to himself and turned his head towards the Dean. “I wasn’t annoyed-“

“Dude, you were always kicking me when we had to share beds in crappy motels. Always mumbled ‘Shut up, you overgrown elephant’ before shoving me to the side.”

Cas nodded because Dean wasn’t wrong. On their first trip all they could afford were rundown, cockroach infested motels to stay in, and almost every lodging only had singles available. Every night ended with Cas pushing Dean off as punishment for snoring like Godzilla, and then Dean would throw a pillow back and tell him to get earplugs if he had a problem.

“That’s because you were a tall eighteen year old who snored like my grandfather! I couldn’t get any sleep with you snoring every five seconds!” Cas exclaimed.

“I can’t help it if I snore! It’s genetic! You should’ve invested in a pair of earplugs, Cas!”

Cas ignored that as he picked up speed, and his grip on the wheel tightened when he realized that he was suddenly anxious. He remembered the room he shared with Dean back in the day. It was small, barely big enough to fit the full sized bed and dresser. He prayed to God that Ellen had the sense to clean out that office they never used and turned it into a spare bedroom.

However, thinking about the Harvelles brought up memories of a certain redheaded girl who wouldn’t be there, and Cas had to ask.

“Hey, Dean?”

He turned down the music and flicked his head in Cas’s direction. “Yeah, Cas?”

A little flip formed in Cas’s gut. He smiled and replied, “You called me Cas.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Dean said with a grin. “What’s up?”

Cas fiddled with his fingers on the wheel before asking the unavoidable question. “How are the Harvelles doing after…y’know…Anna’s death? I only saw them right after it first happened and I know it’s been years, but did they ever get any better?”

He looked over at Dean and saw a thousand emotions play out in his eyes. Anger, disappointment, fear, guilt, sadness, they all appeared in those emerald depths that Cas had known for his entire life. He could see what the question did to Dean and he almost regretted asking it, but he needed to know.

“Let’s just say that even though they’ve moved on, but they’ll never forget,” Dean said.

Cas tilted his head at that but he didn’t push. He knew that Anna’s death was horrible and unfair. She was so full of life but died way too early, a girl who loved more than anyone Cas had ever known. The accident rocked the Harvelles, that much Cas knew, but he could never imagine to what extent. He didn’t even go to the funeral, instead showing up a week later like the cowardly puppy he was.

However, he grinned as he thought about that red headed fireball. Anna was like an adopted daughter to the Harvelles; Ellen found her hanging around from the time they opened to the time they closed, and of course had to ask why she wasn’t in school or at home. Then the truth came out; the horrible, tragic truth. Anna had lost her whole family to a house fire and she had no other next of kin. She was on her own, and had no idea where to go. The Roadhouse was the only place that she knew of that was open long hours and wouldn’t question a young teen hanging around playing pool. After Ellen found out she took Anna in at the age of thirteen and put her into school. She was family, and her death threw the entire Harvelle household into a standstill. Ellen didn’t open The Roadhouse for a whole month following Anna’s passing, noting that she was not up for customers. Ash was even more devastated. He was teaching her how to drive that day, and even though it was a drunk driver that caused the accident, he blamed himself. However, no one would have thought Jo would mourn as deeply as she did. Anna and Jo were polar opposites and argued a lot, but Jo loved her more than anyone would ever know.

When Cas felt tears springing to his eyes, he blinked them away and stayed silent for the rest of the ride, only Dean’s occasional humming filling in every now and again. Cas was okay with it, if he was being honest. The quiet never bothered him.

When they pulled up in front of the familiar old building, he immediately was hit with nostalgia. The Roadhouse looked just like he left it: old, rundown, but still home. Ellen’s place next door also looked the same, the rotting birchwood tree still standing next to the house with the rundown white picket fence. It was a little past nine when they arrived and Cas could smell the bacon cooking from outside. He took a whiff before walking up to the door, laying three quick knocks on the wood before letting himself inside.

“Ellen?” Cas called into the air. He could feel Dean a little too close behind him, his breath hot on his neck.

A loud banging rung out from the kitchen, followed by Ellen’s voice yelling, “Dammit!” Dean and Cas followed the noise and walked in on Ellen nursing a burn over the sink, completely oblivious to the boys’ presence.

“Uh, Ellen?” Dean called to get her attention. She spun around, looking alarmed, before settling into a bright grin.

“Dean! Damn you for scarin’ me like that!” she called in her Southern drawl. She threw the towel she was holding aside and walked over to the boys. “It’s been too long, y’know that? Especially you, Cas. Eighteen years and not even a phone call?”

A light blush rushed to Cas’s cheeks when he was caught by Ellen’s disapproving gaze. She was an oxymoron, exactly the same but different. Her eyes still held that light amusement he remembered, and her grin was just as radiant as before. However, he noticed the differences, too. There were laughter lines around her mouth and crinkles that weren’t there before. Her hair had grey streaks and she seemed dulled, like a dusty painting in The Art Institute. It’s in the cracks that he saw the toll Anna’s death took on her, and he instinctively reached forward to pull Ellen into a hug.

She jumped a little in surprise but fell forward easily, her weight familiar in his arms.

“It’s been too long,” Cas said, and he felt Ellen nod against him.

“It has!” she said as he let her go. “What’ve you been up to, boy?”

Ellen and Dean turned their attention to him, and he leaned back on his heels. He could tell them that he left for Yale, got his degree, landed his dream job, and then completely blew it. He could bring up the fact that his failure sent him into a law world exile, causing him to lose everything he had. He should at least mention that he was now living off of the inheritance he received from his grandfather, and that when it ran out he’d be jobless, penniless, and alone, but he didn’t.

Instead, Cas painted a grand tale about how he took down Roman Enterprises with honor, then went on to become successful and rich. He left out the part where he crashed and burned, justifying that he was not exactly lying, just leaving out parts of the truth.

“Well, I always knew you were destined for greatness, kid,” Ellen said with a grin when he was finished, and then turned back to add another batch of pancakes to the griddle. “Hope you boys are hungry; I made enough to feed an army.”

Both men nodded and took a seat at the breakfast bar, leaving a chair in between them. If Ellen noticed she didn’t comment, and just continued to cook up breakfast as she filled them in on what was going on in the Harvelle household. She was in the middle of a story about Jo’s graduation when they heard footsteps on the stairs.

Ash appeared in the doorway and it was like no time had passed. He’s still had that atrocious mullet that Ellen begged him to cut years ago, and Cas was pretty sure those worn jeans were the same ones from his first trip to the Harvelles. But the most noticeable thing was the heavy dark circles around his eyes, ones that look embedded in the skin. He yawned loudly before glancing around the room, not even noticing Dean and Cas sitting at the bar at first.

“Uh, hey…Ash!” Cas said after a few awkward moments of silence, and only then did Ash notice them.

“Dudes…whatareyadoinghere?” he said in one breath, the words falling together quickly and messily.

“Y’know, reliving the glory days. What have you been up to?” Dean asked.

“Uh, nothing much. Pulling night shifts at The Roadhouse and being awesome, like always,” he joked with a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Cas pushed away from the bar and went to help Ellen, grabbing the plates from the cabinet. He laid them out for everyone, overwhelmed with the nostalgia of the place. The familiar wood walls, the scent of something musky in the air, the ancient heater creaking from the basement, it was like he was eighteen again, singing karaoke at The Roadhouse, playing pool with Anna and Jo, and smoking his first cigarette with Ash beside the lake. It all came rushing back, and the voices in the room faded away into ones from long ago.

* * *

_ June 9th, 1997 _

After one day of packing and another of driving, Cas sighed in relief when they pulled up in front of a rickety old building. However, the feeling faded once he got a good look at the place. The building in front of him looked old and run down, like a barn you would find in a horror film. It made Cas’s nerves twitch with anxiety, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as him and Dean got out of the car and walked through the faded, white picket fence.

“Dean, are you positive that we’re in the right place? This looks...off.”

Dean turned around and held up a piece of John’s old journal. With an intake of breath, he read:

“ _Location one is the Harvelle’s Roadhouse in Townsbrooke, Nebraska. Since we spent every summer here since you were born, of course this is where I’d ask you to start. Ellen isn’t going to take the news of my death well, and seeing you will probably ease the pain a bit. I’ve known that woman for most of my life and well…let’s just say that we had some good times in that bar I’m sending you to. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to have the Winchester clan back in her life. Give her a hug for me, son, or else I’ll haunt your ass._ ”

Dean shoved the paper back in his jacket and headed towards the bar’s door. “See that sign above the bar, Cas? Harvelle's Roadhouse, exactly like I remember it.  I’ve been here a thousand times. Nothing to worry about, well, besides Jo. She’ll eat you if you piss her off.” He knocked on the door loudly. “Ellen? Jo? Ash? Anna? Anyone?”

“Nobody is home and this doesn’t seem safe,” Cas whined from behind. The sun was quickly setting and there was no way in hell Cas was going to get attacked by a ghost on the first day of this trip. He pulled his jacket closer to his body and stepped away from the building. “This place is not right. It’s…sketchy at best and-“

“And what? You wish to finish that sentence, boy?” a harsh, thick Southern accent said.

Dean and Cas froze as footsteps rang out from behind the building, but Dean looked less terrified than him. A woman, probably in her early forties, stepped out from the bar next door and crossed her arms over her chest. She was stern looking; she had an angry glint in her eyes and her fingers were curled around her biceps tightly. She looked like a woman who meant business, and Cas tried to ignore the gun tucked in the back of her jeans.

“Uh…no, ma’am!” Cas replied quickly, his hands coming up to fruitlessly wipe the embarrassed blush off of his cheeks. “It’s a lovely place,” he trailed off, but the woman threw up a hand to stop him.

“If you’re going to be stayin’ here for any amount of time, I suggest you learn to appreciate this old beauty,” she said with a slight grin, and then put out her hand for Cas to shake. “Name’s Ellen, Ellen Harvelle. And let me guess…you’re John’s boy, right?”

“Oh c’mon, Ellen, you’ve forgotten about me already?” Dean joked, knocking her hand aside. “What am I, chopped liver?”

Ellen turned her crinkled gaze on him and smiled deeply. “No, but you are still full of bad lines, just like your daddy. Thought you’d outgrown those by now.”

Dean laughed and pulled Ellen into a hug, knocking the scowl off her face. Ellen relaxed in Dean’s arms and even hugged him back tightly.

“Good to see ya again, boy. And who’s this?” Ellen asked, gesturing to him.

“That’s my friend, Cas Novak. We’re roadtripping-,” Dean began to explain, but Ellen waved her hand in the air.

“I know why you’re here, boys,” Ellen interrupted. “Before he passed, your daddy told me everythin’ he was plannin’ for ya, Dean. He’d go on about this road trip he wanted to take you and Sammy on, and when the cancer hit…well, let’s just say that I was the first one he called with this plan of his. I know the other places you’re goin’ too and lemme be the first to tell ya, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride.” Ellen turned around and gestured for them to follow. “Well, what are ya waitin’ for? The others are inside and they’ll be pleased to meet your friend, Dean.”

Cas jumped as Dean knocked him in the shoulder and pulled him forward into the house that smelled like it looked: old and musty. There was a lingering aroma of aged whiskey and cigars that hung to the space, and Cas wrinkled his nose in distaste. He expected Dean to do the same, but he just breathed it in with a smile and directed them over to the living room where five mismatched chairs were placed. The two of them plopped down on a flowery couch, and Cas tried to ignore the disappointment he felt when Dean dropped his hand from his wrist.

“Others?” Cas asked belatedly when Ellen came into the room with two bottles of Fanta.

“Yeah,” Ellen explained as she threw the bottles at them. “I’ve got Jo, she’s Dean’s age, and Anna and Ash. They’ll love ya, I’m sure of it.” She turned her head towards the stairs and yelled, “Kids! Come down and say hello to our guests!”

Cas heard a distant, “Okay, Mom!” ring out from upstairs, and soon enough clattering footsteps rang out as three bodies crowded the tiny stairway. Two girls clamored over one another as they fought their way to the front while an older boy waited behind. The three fell forward and smiled widely, the blonde girl’s brighter than the others, he noticed.

“Cas, this is Anna, Jo, and Ash.” Ellen said, pointing to each of them as they emerged into the living area, taking seats on the other three chairs.  

“Nice to meet you,” Cas said enthusiastically, trying to ignore the little zing of jealousy when Anna threw Dean a flirty gaze. “I’m Cas Novak, a friend of Dean’s.”

Jo got up from her chair and took a seat next to Cas.  “Nice to meet ya, Cas. What brings you boys here?”

“We’re doing a memorial road trip,” Dean chimed in, taking a pull from the bottle in his hand. “Y’know, going to Dad’s old haunts, checking out a few new ones, reliving his teenage years, that sort of thing.”

Jo nodded in Dean’s direction and then threw her arm around Cas’s shoulder. “Well, you came to the right place to have fun! Mom’s opening the bar in about an hour and I’ve been looking for a new person to play pool with for a while now.” She poked Cas in the side with her elbow and threw him a sly gaze. “You up for it, Cas?”

“Don’t even think about it, Cas!” Dean warned. “She’s a no good hustler, that one.”

The girl pouted and got up from the couch. “You can’t let me have any fun, can you?”

“I can’t let you hustle the guy who is payin’ for our gas,” Dean countered, then took another swig of the orange liquid. He didn’t get much of it down before Jo came over and knocked it forward, the drink cascading down Dean’s lips and onto his shirt.

Cas exploded with laughter, and Jo threw him a wink.

“You asshole!” Dean yelled as he jumped up from the couch, trying to grab Jo. “That’s my nice AC/DC shirt!”

“It’s AC/DC, Dean! It can’t be nice!”

Dean made a lunge for Jo, but she only jumped away. Soon the two were chasing one another around the house like children, Jo yelling at Dean to catch her as she zigzagged between chairs and rooms.  When they disappeared up the stairs, Ellen announced that she was going down to the Roadhouse to open up, and left Cas, Ash, and Anna alone. He didn’t know what to do. Ash and Anna were just staring at him with warm smiles, like they were expecting him to say something interesting.

“Uh...does this happen often?” Cas asked.

Anna laughed. “You should’ve been around here during the summers when we were kids. Jo and Dean would go at each other all the time.”

Cas grinned and opened the bottle of pop that was still in his hand. “I can see that. And...what about you two? Are the Winchesters like family to you guys?”

“Hell yeah they are!” Ash said enthusiastically. “Lemme tell ya something, Cas. Before I moved in with Ellen and Jo I had nobody. I was just a lost kid; we both were, actually. But Ellen found us despite all odds and treated us like her own. And if that wasn’t good enough, add in the Winchesters to the mix. The first summer we spent with the Harvelles was the best ever, right Anna?”

“Absolutely,” she chimed in. “Sam and Dean are a blast to be around and Mary is the nicest. Sad to hear about John though; I heard the end wasn’t...grand,” she muttered under her breath as Jo and Dean came flying back into the room, Jo screeching playfully as Dean hoisted her over his shoulder as he dragged her into the family room.

Cas leaned into Anna’s space. “Listen, Dean doesn’t talk about it but you’re right; the end for John was not easy. I was there when things got bad. He couldn’t breathe on his own, couldn’t feed himself, it was terrible. Mary was a wreck and Sam could barely keep it together on a daily basis. Dean was singlehandedly holding the family together, and if I’m being honest, he’s still doing that. Without Dean around I can only imagine what the Winchester household is like now. Nobody ever got over John’s death, not really. They all hide it well, but I know it’s there underneath.”

The conversation was broken up as Dean waltzed into the room again and threw Jo on one of the chairs, laughing loudly. The two of them fell into a fit of giggles as Jo’s shirt rode up on her stomach, revealing light crescent indents on her hips.

For the second time that day, Cas fought down the bubbling jealousy that was roving beneath the surface of his skin. Dean wasn’t his to be jealous over, and he never would be. Dean’s not into guys, that much was obvious, and he’s dating his sister for goodness sakes! Cas shook his head to get the thought out of his mind; if he fell for Dean Winchester, there would be no going back.

“Do you want to move this party over to the bar?” Ash asked, breaking Cas’s concentration. “I’ll sneak you guys a bottle of rum if ya want.”  

“Great! Dean’ll need a few to forget that I spilled orange pop on him,” Jo said. “Better hurry up and snag it before Mom notices. I’ll grab the Coke from downstairs and we’ll have a grand ol’ time, won’t we?”

“If we’re drunk enough, it’ll be a blast,” Anna said as she bounced up from her chair, following Ash towards the door. She turned towards Dean and Cas, and beckoned them with her finger. “Well, what are you guys standing around for? We’ve got drinking to do!”

Cas eyed Dean warily, but he only grinned and followed the others out the door into the black night. The lights from The Roadhouse gleamed and Cas could already see a few bikes parked outside, signaling that the bar was open for business. He tried to push down the little flip his stomach made when he entered the building and found a row of hardcore looking bikers at the bar, throwing back shots and yelling at the football game that was blaring on the TV. Everything about the place made Cas’s stomach turn, he realized. The smell of cigars, the ratty pool table, the dim lighting, it was all foreign to Castiel, the boy who grew up in a church that preached about hellfire and eternal damnation if you stepped a toe out of line. This place, these people, this lifestyle was exactly what his mother warned him about as a child. It was his mother’s nightmare playing out in front of his eyes, and for a second all he wanted to do was climb back into the Impala and drive back to the familiar, comfortable, safety of home.

But then Cas turned and looked into Dean’s excited eyes. They were glowing and absolutely entranced, bouncing around from the TV to the pool tables. He looked completely relaxed in the tough bar setting; he walked over to the farthest booth and slid in easily, kicking his feet up on the table. When Jo came back with a twelve-pack of Coke in her arms (and the rum Ash promised stashed in a flask), Dean threw his hands in the air and ripped open the package quickly, distributing four cans around the booth for all of them. And when a few unfamiliar faces walked in a few minutes later, Dean jumped up and greeted them like they were old friends, directing them to Jo for a little game of pool. It was a world Cas was told to never enter, and yet he found himself itching for the sting of alcohol to burn his throat, for the atmosphere of a rowdy bar to soak into his system and take him away, even if it was only for a night.

“You’re looking pretty wound up, Cas,” Anna commented as she slid into the booth. “I think you need a little happy juice to liven you up.”

Cas turned towards the girl and saw that she held the flask in her hand discreetly, her eyebrows wiggling as she offered him the drink. He took it hesitantly, bringing it up to his lips. He looked at Anna as he took a pull, cringing as the unfamiliar burn ripped through his throat. He gasped and pushed the flask back over to Anna, coughing until he doubled over the table.

Anna laughed softly. “I was going to say put it in your Coke, but I guess straight up works, too. If you react like that to rum, I’d hate to see what whiskey would do to you. That’s usually Dean’s choice of alcohol consumption.”

Cas wiped his lips with the back of his hand and glared at the girl. “You could’ve said that earlier, y’know?”

“Sorry,” Anna apologized, but her sly grin said otherwise. She toyed with the can of Coke in front of her and gazed over at Dean and Jo; they were huddled closely over a pool table and Jo laughed at something Dean said, her whole body backing into his with the gesture.

He knew he shouldn’t ask, but Cas couldn’t help himself. “Is there anything going on between those two?”

Anna smiled sadly and leaned on her palm. “Jo’s been secretly in love with Dean forever, but I know he doesn’t feel the same way about her. He’s told me that she’s like a sister to him, but he doesn’t realize that those little games he plays with her aren’t anywhere near brotherly. I think she’s aware that Dean doesn’t love her, but the poor girl never lets him go. It’s a true unrequited love story.”

Cas looked at Jo and Dean. Everything about their gestures were flirty, from the way Jo looked up at Dean a bit seductively as she leaned over the pool table to the way Dean would absentmindedly play with her hair between shots. Nothing about their banter would be considered sibling like in his world, or anyone else's for that matter. Could Dean truly not see that he was flirting with Jo...and did he completely forget that he was dating Cas’s sister while he did it?

Without saying a word, Cas gestured to the flask on the table. Anna handed it over and he once again let the burning sensation fill his body, taking his mind off of flirting and girls and especially Dean. Tonight he didn’t want to think about fact that his best friend was dating his sister, or the hugely problematic fact that Cas was staring at him longer these days, wondering what Dean saw in Robin and not him. He decided quickly that tonight all he wanted to feel was the forbidden euphoria his mother warned him about. He wanted to be alive and fulfilled, burning like an inferno. He wanted to truly live.

With a gasp he choked down the rum until a hazy fog filled his body, taking away the harsh edges of the bar. When Jo and Dean returned and slid in next to Cas, he was completely buzzed. Anything Dean said was hilarious, and Jo’s hand motions were particularly funny. Cas couldn’t help the drunken giggles that escaped his mouth, and Dean turned to him with a confused gaze.

“Dude...are you drunk?”

Cas hummed to himself and pulled out the rum bottle from under the table. “Uh...yes? I...think I went to a liquor store...and I drank it!”

He broke out into loud laughter and frowned when no one giggled back. “Guys...that was hilarious? Why...are...you not laughing?” he said.

“Cas...I think we should take you back to-”

“Winchester! What are you doing?” Jo hissed from beside Dean. “We’ve got a drunk teen on our hands and guess what? It’s karaoke night! I say we spring him up there and see what happens. It’ll be fun,” she said.

Cas watched as Dean mulled it over, but this wasn’t his decision to make.

“Hell yeah!” he yelled, a little too loudly for the cramped space. “Let’s do it. Gimme a beat,” he said, ignoring the fact that it was slurred.

Dean threw Cas an amused smile and then followed Jo out of the booth. “Okay, Sinatra. You wanna give it a go, be our guest. You can be the first singer.”

With a grin Cas walked up to the front of the bar where a small stage and a karaoke machine was set up. People glanced as he stumbled up to the microphone, and without even really looking he punched the button for the first song available.

He may have been drunk, but when the smooth, familiar beat sounded over the speakers Cas didn’t need to think before belting out the lyrics.

“ _I like the way you work it, no diggity, I got to bag it up, bag it up_ ,”

Light whoops erupted from the back of the bar as he began to sing out the words, and the elation that was running through his system only made Cas sing louder and more off key.

 

“ _She's got class and style_

_Street knowledge by the pound,_

_Baby never act wild_

_Very low key on the profile_

_Catching feelings is a no,_

_Let me tell you how it goes_

_Herb's the word, spin's the verb_

_Lovers it curves so freak what you heard_

_Rollin' with the phatness_

_You don't even know what the half is_

_You got to pay to play…_ ”

Cas practically screeched out the lyrics as the crowd broke out in applause. He could hear Dean’s loud whoop from the back and with one last yelling of the chorus, he finished the song with a newfound excitement thrumming through his body. His mind was alive, his skin felt like butterflies were flapping against it, and for the first time Cas felt completely free.

When the song ended, everyone in the bar whooped as Cas took a bow and left the stage. He stumbled back to the booth and tried to ignore the drunken dizziness. Jo caught him as he fell back into the seat and everyone at the table just gazed at him in utter awe.

“Dude...when did you start listening to Blackstreet?” Dean asked with a grin. “I’m sure Naomi would have a fit if she knew.”

Cas blushed and looked away from Dean’s warm stare. “Let’s just say that I found a tape in the library and was curious…” he trailed off.

Dean laughed. “That was the freest I’ve ever seen ya. We’ve gotta get you drunk more often.”

“Excuse me, who is drunk? What did y’all do?”

Everyone at the table froze as Ellen appeared before them, Ash being held by one ear.

“She made me tell her about the drinks...sorry,” Ash muttered under his breath, but Ellen just pushed him away.

“Getting minors drunk? In my bar? I’m not dumb; I know y’all drink every now and again but you don’t get trashed at the Roadhouse! Joanna Beth Harvelle, you of all people should know better. You too, Dean Winchester! And Anna...were you in on this too?” Ellen fumed in front of them and all they could do was sit back and take it like kicked puppies. “The fun is over. Back up to the house, all of y’all. And get Cas to bed!”

All four slid out of the bar, but Cas didn’t get far before he stumbled forward. With an exasperated sigh, Dean knocked Cas off his feet and cradled him in his grip, carrying him all the way back to the house. Cas blamed the alcohol for the little flip his gut made when Dean took him in his arms, but he knew otherwise. He was falling fast for Dean Winchester, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

* * *

_ Present Day _

“Cas...Cas!”

Cas was pulled back to the present as Dean waved a hand in front of his face. Everyone in the room was staring at him oddly, Ellen in particular throwing him a distasteful grimace.

“What?” he asked.

Dean laughed lowly. “You were singing _No Diggity_ for awhile there. What gives?”

Cas blushed red when he realized that he was singing along with the memory, and then turned to the pancakes on his plate. Without saying a word, he grabbed his fork and dug in, ignoring the oppressive silence that was now haunting the room.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re practicin’ early. It’s couples karaoke night at the Roadhouse and you two boys are singin’ together, so warm up the pipes.”

Cas dropped the fork he was holding and Dean choked on orange juice. “Excuse me?” Dean asked.

“You heard me! There’s somethin’ off between you two and I’m determined to figure it out. A little singin’ never hurt anybody,” she declared as she slipped some eggs onto Cas’s plate, but his appetite was suddenly gone.

“Really, Ellen? Couples? I don’t want people to think I’m screwing Cas!” Dean complained, and Cas tried to ignore the sting that came with the words. If this were another time, another place, Dean would not have a problem with this at all. He’d just get up on the stage and sing a sappy love song with Cas, because to him it would be a big joke, nothing more. But now? Dean was so defensive, so adamant about not being viewed as a couple that Cas wondered again if this trip was a horrid mistake.

Ellen saw Cas’s dejected face and came out from behind the breakfast bar. She ended up punching Dean on the arm. “Now you listen to me, Dean Winchester! You come into this house, you follow the rules, and I rule that you are going to sing with your best friend Cas and fix whatever is wrong between you two, ya hear?”

Dean knew better than to argue with Ellen, and shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth in agreement. Cas ignored that Dean avoided his gaze for the rest of the meal, and that he didn’t offer a word when Ellen, Ash, or Cas began talking about the old times. And as they brought up old pranks and haunts, he tried to fight down that familiar twinge of his gut that came with the past, the one that held all of his long forgotten feelings for Dean. He couldn't go down that path again; he couldn't get hurt like the last time.

After breakfast, Ellen led them upstairs to the guest bedrooms. Cas relaxed when he found that Ellen had turned the unused room into an extra guest room, and Dean walked lighter when he found out that he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with Cas. The two of them put their things in their separate rooms, and the rest of the day was spent apart. Ellen and Dean worked at the Roadhouse, getting it ready for the night, while Ash ran to the store to grab some more wine. It left Cas alone in the cramped house, and he used the emptiness to visit the one room he hadn’t entered in years.

The door was closed, but Cas knew it was her room. Ellen hadn’t changed anything, leaving the old boy band posters and drawings pinned on the door. With a slight push, Cas walked through the threshold and was hit with a wave of Anna. The dull white walls filled with pictures and posters of Leonardo DiCaprio, the teal bedspread nicely made and pressed like Anna always kept it, the brown teddy bear she cherished, it all hit Cas in the gut like a tidal wave. The unexpected memories brought Cas to the ground.

“I miss her too,” said a familiar voice from the hallway, and Cas pushed off the floor.

Jo leaned in the doorway, looking completely different. She’s a woman now with golden curls and red lips, curves and edges that she didn’t have when they were teens. She was even dressed differently; instead of her plaid and ripped jeans, she was wearing a lace black top and a pair of skinny jeans with bright white heels. It was so unlike the Jo Cas knew, he had to blink a few times to take in the woman before him.

“Hey, Cas,” she said. “My mom called and told me to come over, said you and Winchester were here to relive the glory days. Are you gonna belt out No Diggity again?” she smirked, and that was all Cas could take. With tears brimming his eyes, Cas threw himself into Jo’s open arms, falling into the warm hug.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Jo soothed as she traced patterns onto Cas’s back. “You never got to grieve her like the rest of us did. Comin’ in here for the first time is the toughest.”  

“I didn’t even come to her funeral; I’m horrible,” Cas cried into Jo’s shoulder.

“Do you want to know a secret? I didn’t either. Everyone was too involved to even notice. I got dressed in black and got into my car...and I couldn’t do it. Ash was the one who was there when it happened and he went, so why couldn’t I? She was my best friend, Cas, and I didn’t go to her damn funeral. That’s why I visit here every week and leave new flowers in that vase over there.”

Cas backed away and only then noticed the dropped flowers. Lilies lay on the ground and Cas picked them up, handing them over to Jo.

“Thanks,” she said, and then went over to replace the old flowers with the new ones. “I can feel Anna here, y’know. Not every time, but there'll be days when I’m sitting on her bed and I can hear her yelling at me for wrinkling the covers,” she laughed. “It’s like she’s watching over this place, waiting for someone to take it down and put her things away. I think that’s when her ghost will appear.”

Cas grinned, then wiped away the tear tracks that were left on his cheeks. He watched as Jo adjusted the flowers in the vase to be presentable. When she was done, she stepped back and threw the old ones away, admiring her handiwork.

“They’re gorgeous,” Cas replied.

“Thanks. Lilies were Anna’s favorite. It’s fitting that they stay in this room with her memory.”

They fell silent together as they gazed at the blooming flowers. The light scent filled the room and it made Cas’s sadness subside. A light breeze flew through the area, and Cas could feel Jo get nervous next to him.

“We should probably go down to the bar,” she said brightly, grabbing his hand. She dragged them out of the room and closed the door, a little grin on her face. “I think Anna was yellin’ at me to get out.”

* * *

When the bar opened a few hours later, tension still ran high between Dean and Cas. He tried to bring up insignificant things, such as the weather or the drive up to the Roadhouse, but Dean didn’t bite, only giving him quick, one word answers to his questions. It was driving Cas up a wall; Dean always was good at holding grudges, but Cas never thought he’d hold one against him.

Before Cas was ready, Ellen was dragging the karaoke machine up to the stage and stepped up to the mic, knocking it a few times to get everyone’s attention.

“Welcome to couples night at the Roadhouse!” Ellen announced, and light claps rung out from the audience. “To start us off, I’ve got a few volunteers! Cas, Dean, you two come up here!”

Cas looked over at Dean from across the room and saw annoyance in his eyes. He practically stomped up to the stage, and Cas followed, grabbing one of the outstretched mics from Ellen. He offered it to Dean, but he pushed it aside, taking the one from the mic stand instead.

 _Fine_ , Cas thought. _Two can play at that game._ Without asking, he crossed behind Dean and scrolled through the songs, choosing one that he knew by heart.

“Wait...not this song!’ Dean groaned, but Cas just nudged him in the arm.

“I was the last one to drive, so I pick the music. I believe that you need to shut your cakehole, isn’t that right?”

Dean grumbled something unintelligible, then took a breath as he let out the first notes of the song.

 

“ _Now and then I think of when we were together_

_Like when you said you felt so happy you could die_

_Told myself that you were right for me_

_But felt so lonely in your company_

_But that was love and it's an ache I still remember_ ,” Dean sang, his voice coming out strong and smooth.

Cas jumped a little bit when Dean knocked their arms together, throwing him a pointed look.

“You’re next,” he muttered.

Cas closed his eyes and focused on the lyrics, singing them out as loud as he could.

“ _You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness_

_Like resignation to the end, always the end_

_So when we found that we could not make sense_

_Well you said that we would still be friends_

_But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over._ ”

When the verse was over, Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean. He nodded back and let out the chorus with a slight tremble in his voice, his hands coming up to punch the air.

“ _But you didn't have to cut me off_

_Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing_

_And I don't even need your love_

_But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough_

_No you didn't have to stoop so low_

_Have your friends collect your records and then change your number_

_I guess that I don't need that though_

_Now you're just somebody that I used to know._ ”

Cas shivered as Dean’s gaze poured into his, filling him with images of an angry goodbye. It only fueled the desire in his gut, the one that was determined to make up for everything that went wrong in their friendship. With a new energy, he belted out the next verse.

“ _Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over_

_But had me believing it was always something that I'd done_

_But I don't wanna live that way_

_Reading into every word you say_

_You said that you could let it go_

_And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know._ ”

“ _But you didn’t have to cut me off!_ ” Dean sung louder, breaking into Cas’s space. Suddenly Dean was right there, hot breath blowing on his face as he roared out the lyrics. “ _Make out like it never happened and that we were nothin’!_ ”

“ _And I don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and it feels so rough_ ,” Cas interrupted, pushing Dean away. He was too close, too intimate, and Cas couldn’t, wouldn’t, take it.

Dean fought back with a shove, knocking Cas slightly off balance. “ _No you didn't have to stoop so low, have your friends collect your records and then change your number. I guess that I don't need that though_ ,” Dean belted, voice breaking under the strain. He hesitated as the last line came, his hands quivering as his eyes wheeled around the room. Without finishing, Dean dropped the mic and leaned into Cas’ ear, singing out the last words before running off the stage.

“ _Now you're just somebody that I used to know._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

_Present Day_

Dean’s hands quaked as he ran out of the bar, the night hitting him like a blanket. He essentially just exposed all of his feelings about Cas, and he had no clue what to do about it. So in true Winchester fashion, he ran until his lungs burned, ran until the dirt billowing up from the dusty road filled his body, ran until he reached the edge of town, ran until he fell into an old bar named The Bullseye and drank himself into a stupor, falling over his words as a pretty blonde made conversation with him. Dean drank and drank until all of his unresolved problems with Cas fell into the background, leaving only the blonde woman in the low cut top who told Dean that they could have a good time.

An hour after meeting, Dean found himself pushed into a dingy hotel room with the blonde biting his lip. Soon, Dean had the woman splayed out beneath him as he roughly pounded away the persistent blue eyes that were haunting the back of his mind. When the the bright sunrise shone above the horizon, Dean woke up in a dirty motel room with a massive headache and the blonde nowhere to be found.

With a groan, Dean pushed off of the now wrinkled bed and pulled on his abandoned clothes, not daring to wash off in the motel’s disgusting shower first. He quickly checked out and pushed back the now insistent thoughts from the night before. Dean knew there were a thousand unanswered questions between him and Cas, but in the wake of the hangover he was nursing, Dean could hardly get himself to care.

It was only as he was walking back to the Harvelles that Dean realized that he never got the name of the woman he banged last night.

It was early when Dean pushed through the Harvelles front door, shutting it quietly behind him. In hopes of not running into anybody, he tiptoed up the stairs like a child, hating when the creak of the floorboards rang out like squawking birds. He was almost in the clear as he crossed the threshold to the guest room, but a hand on his shoulder halted him.

“Not so fast, Dean,” Ellen’s voice called out from behind, and with a grunt he turned around to face her. “What the hell happened last night, boy?”

“Nothing. Nothin’ happened,” Dean growled under his breath as he tried to escape Ellen’s grasp, but to no avail. When Ellen wanted to talk, she got her talk.

“I’ve known you your entire life, so don’t think you can lie to me. Where did you go after you stormed out?”

Dean wrestled out of Ellen’s grip and walked into the guest room, throwing his body down on the bed. “I went to The Bullseye,” he muttered into a pillow.

“...And?” he heard Ellen ask behind him.

Dean sighed. “And...nothing. Nothin’ happened.”

“Bullshit,” Ellen barked, and then crouched down next to Dean’s head. “You reek of cheap sex, Winchester. You can’t hide from me that easily.”

He nested further down in the sheets and shoved his head under the pillow, ignoring Ellen’s seething gaze. The room was ringing from his hangover and the alcohol from last night was sitting poorly in his gut. The last thing Dean needed was Ellen chewing him out for leaving Cas alone on that stage.

“I can’t talk about it now, Ellen.”

“Tough shit. I’m gonna make a batch of waffles, and if your ass isn’t down there in ten minutes I’ll send Jo up to pour a bucket of water on your head, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean groaned into the pillow, burrowing lower into the bed.

“Good,” Ellen replied, her footsteps echoing as she left the room.

He couldn't believe that Ellen was going to make him talk about Cas. It made his whole body feel tingly and wrong when familiar cerulean eyes with crinkles around the edges appeared in his thoughts, screaming of eighteen years of disappointment and regret. He almost thought about jumping through the window, the drop wasn’t that far, but then he heard loud steps ring out from his doorway. The next thing Dean knew, Jo was dragging him from the bed and pushing him out the door.

“You’re not leavin’ until you explain what’s up, Winchester!” Jo growled in his ear, and the voice only brought a new wave of nausea to his gut. How could he possibly explain the incident, the one that destroyed the best friendship he ever had? Where could he even begin?

Jo’s hand pushed Dean down the stairs and into the kitchen, gesturing for him to take a seat at the breakfast bar. Begrudgingly, he plopped down in the open chair and rested his hands in his palms, rubbing circles into his forehead. _It’s too early for this_ , Dean thought as he accepted the coffee Ellen slung at him with a small grin.

After Ellen threw a stack of waffles on Dean’s plate, she leaned against the counter and eyed him warily.

“Okay, Winchester. Spill. What the hell is going on between you and Cas? Last time you guys were together, you were inseparable. Now you won’t even be in the same room? What gives?”

Dean groaned, because this was exactly what he was trying to forget. Images appeared, ones filled with angry poses and yelling voices, a hotel hallway and the eavesdroppers the only objects around them. He remembered his words coming out like venom, stinging Cas like a snake strikes its victim. With a burning clarity Dean remembered the biggest mistake of his life, taking Cas down when he needed Dean’s support the most.

“It happened when we were in Vegas,” Dean began, completely ignoring the waffles on his plate. “Cas left for a bit and I had a...little bit of a surprise waiting for him at the room. Let’s just say that I screwed up royally and Cas was pissed, like, the most pissed I’ve ever seen him before.”

“What did you do?” Jo interrupted.

Dean ran fingers through his hair and avoided their gazes. All of the old memories came back to him as he thought about the past, and he felt his gut tighten when he realized that even though it was tough, the Harvelle’s deserved to know about Vegas. “I-”

“Dean?”

Dean cringed at Cas’s voice. He turned and found Cas lounged in the stairway, an ashen look written across his face.

“…Cas, did you-“

“Hear what you were going to say? Yeah, I did. And if you guys don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Dean…alone,” Cas said sternly, his harsh gaze daring anyone to argue with him.

With a silent nod the Harvelles filed out of the room, leaving only Dean and Cas staring one another down from across the empty space.

“Cas-“

“Don’t you even think you can start with me,” Cas interrupted, his eyes raging like a storm. “You were going to tell them? Without my permission? Dean, what happened between us is hardly anyone’s business.”

“They’re practically family to me, Cas, and I thought they were to you too. They deserve to know what’s going on between us-“

“What went on between us back then is none of their concern!” Cas yelled, and Dean felt like the room reverberated around him. “I thought this trip was to fix things between us, but all you’re doing is bringing up old wounds. I’m the one who got hurt and I let it go, so why can’t you?”

Dean fell silent as Cas glared back at him, his fingers curled into his palms hard enough that Dean could see a little bit of red forming around the crescents.

“Cas, calm down. I’m sorry, okay? Man, I thought you’d be fine with the Harvelles knowin’, but I should’ve asked you first. Sorry, man. Really,” Dean said quietly, because if he talked any louder he’s afraid the room would break around them.

Cas ran his fingers through his hair and shuffled over to the counter, leaning down to rest his arms against marble. “I accept your apology,” Cas said robotically, “but don’t think that this means everything will be okay between us. I…I think I need to get out of here. Maybe the next place will be better.”

Dean nodded as Cas ran a hand over his face, letting out a puff of air as he headed back for the stairs.

“I’ll pack up everything if you get the Impala started. I’d like to be gone within in the hour.”

As Cas ascended the stairs and left Dean alone, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever be able to repair the damage he’d caused.

* * *

_July 4th, 1997_

“Are you really not going to stick around for the fireworks?” Anna asked as she loaded the rest of the boys’ bags into the Impala.

Dean slammed the door shut and turned towards the redhead, trying his best to avoid her wide, blue eyes. If he allowed himself to look into them, he was positive that he’d never leave.

The past month was a ride, the Harvelles treating Cas and Dean like their own. Long days at the beaches faded into drunken nights by the lake, smoking whatever they could get their hands on. They got into loads of trouble with Ellen when they came home reeking of pot and beer, Ash even getting a private lecture with her about being a responsible adult and not giving alcohol and drugs to underage teens. And of course there were more karaoke nights at the bar, Dean rocking out to the greats as Cas rolled his eyes from their booth and laughed at his off-key belting.

“We stayed a lot longer than we planned. Dad told us to check up on Uncle Bobby; apparently he thinks the old man ain’t gonna take his death well,” Dean replied as he came back to the present.

Anna sighed and walked forward, wrapping her thin arms around Dean’s middle. “I’m going to miss you, y’know,” she said quietly. “Cas too.”

Dean ran his fingers through her hair and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll be back to visit soon. Who knows, maybe we’ll hit you up before we head back to Kansas. I know Cas was having the time of his life.”

She turned her gaze up at him and pecked a small kiss on his jaw. “Thanks, Dean.”

“For what?”

“For giving me the best month of my life.”

Dean let her go as he watched Cas coming over the hill, grocery bags filled to the brim in his arms. His face was flushed from the long walk and light sweat was building up on his brow, his t-shirt already drenched. Dean groaned when he thought of the stink that was going to bring into the Impala, and totally ignored the fact that his gut did a little jump when Cas walked towards the car and threw the groceries inside with force, his muscles expanding at the effort.

It had been occurring more and more over the past month. Most of the time, Dean didn’t even realize it. He’d be out with Cas at the beach and would watch as his best friend pulled off his t-shirt before jumping into the water. The tanned skin and light muscles that Dean viewed there were enough to get him flustered, but he would always push it off, act like it was nothing. But then a few days later he’d be at the Roadhouse with the Harvelles and Cas, staring as Cas downed a beer and sang various songs on the karaoke machine, his hips gyrating along with the pop tune.

But it did not mean anything…did it?

 _It can’t_ , he reminded himself.

“You boys ready to head out?” Ellen called, breaking Dean’s thoughts.

“Just about,” Dean said, turning around to take in Ellen’s stern stance. “Don’t worry. I won’t get Cas into any trouble.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, Winchester. Where you two goin’ next?”

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the creased letter. “Dad said he wants us to check up on Uncle Bobby. Apparently he thinks the old man isn’t gonna take his death well.”

Ellen sighed. “Well, he probably ain’t wrong in thinkin’ that. Your uncle’s lost one too many people already. Let’s just say I wouldn’t wanna be the one dealin’ with that man right now.”

Dean grinned as he took in Ellen’s teasing smile. “I’ll miss ya, though,” he responded. “Maybe if we’ve got time we’ll swing back on our way to Kansas. Y’know, catch up before Cas heads off to Yale and all that fancy stuff.”

“You better,” Ellen warned, then pulled Dean into a hug. “It’s been a pleasure havin’ you around this past month, Dean. Don’t you dare be a stranger, ya hear? And you better tell your little girlfriend that I wanna meet her one day.”

Dean pulled away from Ellen with a panicked feeling in his gut. He began counting back the days in his head. Three…four…five days had passed since he last called Robin, and he hadn’t even noticed. He groaned as he imagined their next conversation.

“Yeah…about that…can I borrow your phone before we head out? Better give her a call.”

Ellen nodded and led Dean back into the house, gesturing to the old rotary phone on the wall.

“Don’t be too long, now. Gotta get to Bobby’s before dark.”

He turned away from Ellen and ran his finger over the old rotary dial. With a bout of concentration, Dean twirled the wheel until the dial tone began ringing, his fingers tapping anxiously against his leg as the silence became deafening.

“ _Hello?_ ” Robin’s unsure voice rang out, sounding garbled by the bad connection.

“Robin? It’s Dean,” he said.

“ _Dean? Where the hell are you? It’s been days and you haven’t called me? Are you still at Ellen’s? How is Cas? Why did you not-_ “

“I know, I’m an ass for not calling ya, but I’ve just been busy ‘round here. Y’know, helping Ellen fix up the place before we head out, hanging with Jo and the crew, getting your brother and my best friend drunk, the usual.”

He heard Robin’s deep sigh on the other line. “ _I know you’re busy, but I miss you. It’s hard not being around your boyfriend for three months, y’know? Not seeing you, not touching you…” she paused, “not feeling my lips on yours. It’s rough for a girl._ ”

Dean hissed as images of Robin’s pliant lips came to his mind. “I’m about to get into a car with your brother; I don’t need those images in my head.”

Her trilling laughter rang out. “ _Yeah, I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want you screwing my brother in my place._ ”

And of course, that’s the last thing Dean needed. His cheeks burned a bright red as his hand tightened on the phone. “What? I would never do that! That’s…that’s crazy talk. You’re off your rocker, Robin!”

“ _Dean? Are you…okay?_ ”

“I’m fine!” he laughed humorlessly, pacing back and forth as he got twirled in the phone cord. “Look, this has been a great talk but I’ve gotta go, babe. I’ll be back in no time, alright?”

“ _Alright…but don’t forget to call me!_ ”

“I won’t!”

Dean heard her pause. “ _I…love you!_ ” she blurted out, and he could only gape at the wall.

“Uh…thanks! Bye!”

He groaned as he quickly hung up the phone and leaned back against the wall. Why could it never be easy with her?

“Dean! Cas is waitin’ and the day ain’t gettin’ any younger! Get your ass out here, boy!”

He groaned as he heard Ellen calling from the front and leaned his head against the wall. Everything was hitting him at once. Robin’s confession, the weirdness with Cas, and the fact that he would be spending the next three hours trying to forget about the comment she made about screwing her brother. With a grunt, Dean pushed off the wall and walked back to the car. Cas was already in the passenger seat and the Harvelle crew was lounging outside with tiny smiles.

“I’ll miss ya guys!” Dean called as he opened the door to the Impala.

“We’ll miss you too!” the clan called as Dean threw himself inside, watching the back windshield as they waved them away.

“I can understand why you consider them family,” Cas commented as they pulled onto the interstate. “They’re very nice people.”

“The Harvelles are the best,” Dean said as he turned up the radio, a Van Halen tune screeching through the car. “And they understand good music. None of that Britney Spears crap at their bar.”

Cas laughed lowly and turned his attention back out the window. “Don’t insult the queen,” he muttered under his breath, and Dean had to turn in his direction at that.

“Excuse me?” he replied. “Britney Spears is not the queen. That right goes to Stevie Nicks and no one else. Don’t fight me on this, Novak.”

Cas snorted. “Stevie Nicks? That’s such a typical answer from you. Britney is the new queen. People are going to be talking about her for years to come while Stevie falls into the background.”

“Cas, you’re so naive! That’s not going to happen and lemme tell ya why…”

The rest of the three hour trip went back and forth, Dean fighting for his favorite female artist while Cas fought for his. The two agreed to disagree when they pulled up to Bobby’s house, the old building looking eerie as the sun set behind it. Dean parked the car and jumped out of the vehicle faster than he thought possible, bounding up to Bobby’s doorstep with a gleam in his eye.

Dean knocked on the door. No answer. He frowned, then tried again, louder this time. Again, no answer. With a grunt, he began to slam his palm against the aging wood.

“Bobby! It’s Dean! Open up, you old coot!” he called loudly.

“Get off my lawn, you idjit!” Bobby called from inside. “I don’t want ya here!”

And well, Dean wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t a bit obnoxious.

“Don’t be an idiot, Bobby! Dad wanted me to check up on ya!” Dean yelled.

“I don’t need to be babysat!” he heard the old man say, and Dean just groaned. Three hours of travel and Bobby wasn’t even going to let them in?

“We’ve got nowhere to stay for the night. Aren’t ya gonna let your own nephew in?”

Dean grinned as he heard footsteps ring out from the other side. The door creaked open, and Dean found his disheveled uncle leaning against the doorframe. Bobby looked older from the last time he visited. His eyes had very distinct circles underneath them that weren’t there in his earlier years, and instead of the bright smile that came with Dean’s other visits, this one was filled with Bobby’s grimace. Nothing about the older man looked okay, and Dean couldn’t help but take a step back.

“Damn Bobby, did you brawl with a bear or something? You look wrecked.”

Bobby opened the entry the rest of the way and gestured the boys inside. “You can’t talk, idjit. You look like you’ve just rolled out of bed. And who is this? Your new boy toy?”

Dean flushed crimson and tried hard not to stumble over his next words. “Uh…you don’t remember Cas?” he asked.  

“Nice to meet you, Robert,” Cas said sarcastically as he offered his hand to Bobby.

Bobby pulled Cas into a hug. “Oh course I remember this idjit. And we don’t shake hands in this household, Cas. You oughta know that. We hug like real men.”

Dean watched as Cas fumbled against Bobby’s crushing grip, his wide eyes screaming at Dean for help.

“Okay, okay, okay. We don’t need to hug Cas to death on his first trip here. Save that for his second,” Dean teased as Bobby let go, the man looking a little more at ease.

“Great to see you again. Dean never shuts up about you,” Cas teased as he threw Dean a little grin. “All he ever talks about is how he’s coming up here after high school to work at the garage. It gets old.”

Dean walked forward and threw his arm around Cas’s shoulder. “Oh yeah? What about you, mister Yale? All you ever talk about is what societies you’re gonna enter when you get to that big fancy law school of yours. Nobody wants to hear about that.”

Cas nudged Dean in the ribs and pushed out from under his grip. “Fine. We’re both boring idiots, then. I’ll go out and get our bags from the car.”

And then, with one little smirk in Dean’s direction, Cas was out of sight.

“I’m not a child, y’know,” Bobby muttered under his breath. “You don’t need to waste your time here if you don’t wanna.”

Dean dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the second letter from John. “Location number three is your Uncle Bobby’s place up in Sioux Falls,” Dean read. “Check up on the old man, because he’ll probably be all self righteous about taking care of himself after I’m gone. Don’t let him convince you he’s fine, because without proper looking after I’m afraid he’ll forget to take care of himself.” He threw Bobby a pointed look. “He’s not lying and you know it.”

Bobby let out a breath and folded his arms across his chest. “Fine, but I don’t want you idjits wastin’ your entire trip here. You can look after me when you come up to work at the garage.”

He nodded and put the letter back in his pocket. “How are you, by the way?” Dean asked. “I haven’t talked to ya since the funeral, and it’s not like you were calling us to check in like you said you would.”

Bobby’s gaze flitted to the ground and he turned away from Dean. “How you think I’m doing, boy? Your dad was a piece of work, and we argued like the old coots we were, but he is, was, my best friend. It’s been rough. You oughta know the feeling.”

Of course Dean could relate. Any time he thought of his father, he was immediately taken back to when he was alive. He’d remember the good things, like when they’d go to baseball games where his dad was the loudest cheerleader on the sidelines, or when he’d come back from a long hunt with fresh deer for them to eat and hugs all around. He would reminisce about the days before the cancer when they’d take the Impala out on the open road as a family, then would find a park to eat a batch of Mary’s fantastic orange bars.

(He ignored the numerous bad times when he remembered John. No need spoiling a memory with the less than perfect past, he thought).

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Dean replied after a beat, and then turned towards the door when he heard Cas return.

“What are you carrying in this thing? Rocks?” Cas complained.

“Dean, don’t be an idjit and pick that thing up,” Bobby said. He gestured to the stairs. “I’ve only got the one guest room, which is the first door on the right. I’m  two will be fine sharin’, won’t ya?”

“Of course, Bobby. Long as Cas doesn’t push me off the bed like he did at Ellen’s place.”

Cas laughed loudly and walked up the stairs. “I’ll try.”

Dean was about to follow, but Bobby’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Listen, I know you two won’t mind with the room sharin’ and all, but just remember that mine is right next door and the walls are thinner than ice ‘round here.”

“Uh…” Dean floundered for words, because what was Bobby getting at?

“Ugh, fine. I’ll be explicit. No banging your boyfriend when I’m around, okay? Because I don’t care what you do with him at your place but-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Dean interrupted when it all clicked in his head. “Cas isn’t my boyfriend, Bobby! I’m straight!”

Bobby smirked at Dean and tapped his foot against the ground. “Really, now? That Novak boy ain’t your boyfriend?”

“No!” Dean defended. “Why would you think that?”

Bobby quieted down and clasped his hands together. “Remember the funeral? You were tryin’ to be strong for everyone and refused to cry. You held your brother and mother and even me before you allowed yourself even a glance at your dad, and even then, nothin’. And I know John was never one for all that tears and cryin’ business, but I could see that you wanted to. Anyway, after the wake I walked by the coat closet and found you curled up in Cas’s arms, cryin’ your little eyes out. I’ve never seen you like that with anybody, boy, so I just thought…”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” Dean interrupted with a scowl on his face. “I wouldn’t bang a dude, ever, and if you think that I would-”

“Fine, fine!” Bobby interrupted back. He brought a palm up to rest against Dean’s arm. “Sorry for assumin’ things, but you know I’d be okay with it if you were, right?”

Dean curled his fingers into his hands and bit down on his lip. Of course Bobby would be okay with it, but at the end of the day, his opinion wasn’t the one that mattered to Dean. No, the only person he ever tried to please was dead, and he’d do anything to be the man that John expected him to be. A good little toy soldier, always ready for battle, always ready to woo a woman off her feet.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean whispered under his breath, and then shoved out from underneath Bobby’s grip and walked up the stairs.

“Is Bobby going to be okay?” Cas asked when Dean pushed through the door.

“Yeah, the old coot will be fine, eventually. He’s just lost a lot of friends over the years. Before the garage, Bobby was a miner down Lawrence. You lose a lot of people in that line of work, and after awhile it took it’s toll on him. Moved up here to start anew, but then my dad died and his wife left. It’s not easy, being Bobby.

Cas played with the hem of the bed cover. “I worry, that’s all.”

Dean nodded. “Bobby’s tough; he can get through almost anything.”

They both fell quiet for a bit as they began unpacking, but a crack of a firework disrupted them. Dean brought his eyes over to Cas. “You know, it is the Fourth of July.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “Yes? And?”

Dean grinned back at him. “You ever set off a firework before, Cas?”

After a quick trip to the local convenience store, Dean pulled the Impala into a familiar field. It looked a lot better than the last time Dean was there, the grass growing back nicely and the burnt trees looking full again. He grinned when he remembered his last trip here, the night filled with endless fireworks as Sam clung to Dean’s side, whispering that he’d never let go.

* * *

He jumped out of the car and grabbed the bag from the trunk, working quickly to set up the supplies. He didn’t notice when Cas walked up behind him, leaning over his crouched form.

“These look dangerous,” he commented.

Dean laughed. “Eh, I guess they kinda are. I took Sammy here last year and we set off hundreds of them. Best night of our lives…until we accidentally burned the entire field down. Glad to see it’s growing back fine.”

Cas snickered lowly next to him. “Really? You set this field on fire?”

“Hey! I was young and naive! I didn’t know that about fire safety and all that shit.”

Cas put the firework down and grabbed Dean’s shoulder. “You know that was only a year ago. Did turning eighteen ignite your sense of responsibility?”

He knocked Cas aside as he stood up and prepped the first rocket. “Shut up,” he muttered under his breath. “I promise not to set anything on fire this time, okay?”

He heard Cas’s laugher. “Okay, but if you do I’m blaming you.”

Dean ignored that comment as he pulled out a lighter and set the first firework off. He ran backwards and leaned his head back as he watched it fly into the sky, a brilliant tail of orange lighting up the dark. And when it broke and exploded into an array of colors, Dean couldn’t help but grin.

“It’s beautiful,” Cas said with awe in his voice, and Dean glanced over to find Cas looking absolutely taken by the light, his eyes dancing with the firework’s reflection as it petered from view.

And damn it it wasn’t one of the most beautiful things Dean had ever seen.

“Can…I light one?” Cas asked timidly.

Dean nodded and gestured for Cas to pick one up from the ground, guiding his hands with his own when Cas fumbled over the rocket.

“Just like this,” Dean said as he positioned the rocket in Cas’s grip. “Then we line it up with this,” he pointed to the clamp in the ground, “and then we light it and run.”

Cas looked on in deep concentration as he followed Dean’s instructions. He tried to pay attention to what Cas was doing, but it was hard when he was flush against Dean’s body in very sensitive places, and the dry spell without Robin wasn’t helping. He tried to hide his discomfort by backing away slightly and letting go of Cas’s hands, but it did nothing to disguise the situation in his pants.

“Uh,” Dean’s voice cracked, “yeah, just like that. Now light it.”

Cas did as Dean said, then sprinted back with Dean to watch it light up the sky. A brilliant blue tinted the area around them as the firework sizzled into nonexistence, and Cas once again looked like a kid on Christmas.

They spent the rest of the night like that, lighting lines of fireworks and watching as they exploded brightly in the night. They took turns leaning back against the Impala as one person lit a row, watching as greens and blues and oranges filled the expanse above them with wonder. And even though he tried not to, Dean found himself looking at Cas more than at the fireworks, loving the way the lights flickered against his tanned skin, bringing out the hidden hues of alabaster and beige underneath. It was the first time he allowed himself to admit that Cas was beautiful, a piece of art probably made after that God Cas believed in.

If he had any doubts about his feelings towards Cas, they were shattered in that moment. As Dean looked on at his excited friend, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was starting to form a crush on the boy with the blue eyes and black hair. It made him want to reach over between them and entwine their fingers together, just to feel what Cas’s pulse would do to his own.

But then the words of his late father came crashing into his mind, reminding him that he could never have that. It’s wrong, it’s dirty, it’s unmanly, his dad always said, and he still had the scar from the time his father caught him kissing a boy behind their house freshman year. He wrote it off as an accident received from playing baseball with Sam; he didn't even tell Cas about Alistair, and instead crafted a story about how he got that hickey on his neck from Cassie Robinson, a girl he had a crush on.

So he pushed it all aside and watched the fireworks instead, trying to forget about the boy with the blue eyes.

* * *

 

_Present Day_

“Dean, there’s no way we’re going to make it there by nightfall if you keep stopping,” Cas whined.

Dean just groaned as he pulled off the freeway once again, this time to stop at a gas station off I-75. “You’ve gotta trust me, Cas. I know what I’m doin’.”

“You’ve already grabbed flowers and a bottle of whiskey! We’re going to Bobby’s, not on a date.”

Dean ignored him as he got out of the car and walked into the store. He knew where to go immediately; there was a fishing section in the back that was filled with trucker hats with different logos on them, and he grabbed one that had a picture of a beaver on it. With a little grin and wink at the pretty cashier, he was back into the car again and driving off as Cas fiddled with the radio, not even caring when a bubble-gum pop song filled the Impala.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Cas asked once they were back on the freeway. “I’ve got Katy Perry playing and you’re not batting an eye.”

Dean grunted and turned off the music. “I’m just a little nervous about going to Bobby’s, that’s all.”

Cas threw a confused look at Dean. “Why? You guys are on great terms. You spent a year and a half up there because you were into Rhonda Hurley. Rumor has it that you even wore her pink panties…and liked it.”

Dean practically ran off the road as Cas uttered those words. “Wha…how…” he fell over his words.

“My little talk with your brother was a wealth of information,” he teased as he propped his elbow on the armrest, throwing Dean a little grin that could bring down the strongest of men.

_That idiot._

The rest of the car ride was filled with silence he as mentally noted all the ways he could get back at Sam.

When they pulled into the parking lot, the sun was filtering through the clouds. Everything around them was bathed in yellow light and the limestone turned orange in the sunset, making the carefully placed lines of stone seem less ominous than they really were. He turned off the engine and grabbed the flowers, whiskey, and hat from the backseat, expecting Cas to follow when he got out and began walking towards the familiar headstone.

It wasn’t until Dean didn’t hear footsteps behind him that he realized the truth. Cas didn’t know about Bobby.

“Oh, shit,” Dean whispered under his breath as he turned around, finding a very shell shocked Cas staring into the distance.

“When did he pass?” Cas asked quietly, his eyes turned to the ground.

Dean let out a sigh. “Ten years ago in August. He never was the same after my dad’s death. Doctors said it was a heart attack that took him, but I think he just couldn’t deal with being alone.”

Cas played with the edge of his trench coat as he walked forward. “Condolences.”

He nodded and then gestured for Cas to follow him into the labyrinth of limestone, his feet knowing the path well. He’d come to visit Bobby’s grave many times over the past few years, sometimes alone, sometimes with Sam and his mother by his side. The one time he brought an ex-girlfriend, she got so squeamish about being in a graveyard that they left pretty quickly. It was only as they were approaching the familiar stone that he realized that this was the first time that he’d brought along anyone who wasn’t family in about five years.  

When they approached the gravestone, Dean leaned down and put the whiskey and flowers on the grass, then with a grin, got up and threw the cap on the top of the limestone.

“Hey, Bobby. You remember Cas, right?” Dean asked the air, looking down at the inscription on the stone: Here Lies Robert James Singer, Uncle, Brother, and Friend. August 12, 1950 - August 18, 2005.

Cas came up to Dean’s side and peered down at the objects. “…He isn’t here, is he?” he asked with a tremor in his voice, his eyes flitting around the darkening field.

Dean laughed. “Nah, I don’t believe in all that ghost crap. Jo got to ya, didn’t she?”

Cas grinned at the ground. “Yeah…” he trailed off.

He didn’t care about how it came off; Dean threw his arm around Cas’s shoulder and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Don’t worry bout it, man. Bobby’s been gone a long time. It’s just…easier to talk to him when I visit. It feels too permanent otherwise.”

He felt Cas nod into his shoulder, and then he did the stupidest thing he could imagine: Dean leaned a little to the left, and let his head fall against Cas.

Wrong move. Cas automatically stiffened next to him and stared out into the distance, his eyes filled with unhidden panic.

“Uh…” Dean replied as he awkwardly dropped his arm from Cas’s body, “I think they’re closing down in a few. We better go.”

Cas didn’t reply, but instead just turned around and walked slowly back to the Impala, his movements almost robotic.

_Damn it all._

With a sigh, Dean followed Cas back into the car and peeled out of the parking lot faster than he thought possible.


	4. Chapter 4

_July 5th, 1997_

Cas woke up to the feeling of cold grass beneath his arms and a warm presence by his side.

The night before came rushing back like a typhoon, images of Dean’s joyful face illuminated in bright color filling his thoughts. After they finished blowing up fireworks into the sky, Dean pulled out the bottle of whiskey he managed to get from Ash before they left the Roadhouse, and the two of them lay out under the stars as Cas rambled on about constellations until his words became slurred, the inebriation eventually pulling him into a deep, dream filled sleep by Dean’s side.

As he remembered, Cas turned and found Dean sprawled out on the ground, his leather jacket the only thing covering him. He looked completely peaceful there, his blond locks mussed even more than usual from sleep, and his eyelashes fluttered like butterflies against his cheeks. It wasn’t until Dean shifted against him that he realized just how close they were lying, and the light brush against his hips didn’t help the obvious situation in his pants.

“Damn it,” Cas whispered lowly, trying to nudge away from Dean, but the other boy just groaned and reached for Cas, pressing against him.

“Damn it damn it damn it,” Cas panicked, his eyes racing around the open field. He tried to think of every unsexy thing possible, starting with Robin’s hair that was always found covering their shared bathroom, to the time he found his cousin Gabriel checking himself out in his room…wearing nothing but a pair of his girlfriend’s cotton panties.

He let out a breath of relief when the images pushed back any desire that may have been stirring. If Dean woke up to that against his leg, he wondered if he’d believe that it was just your casual ‘oh, it’s early in the morning’ wood instead of from a dirty dream he’d just woken up from, one that involved Dean in a very compromising position beneath him...

Cas stopped the dream from replaying before he could get too far. Instead, he got untangled from Dean and walked to the Impala to pick through their groceries. He was halfway through their pile when he heard Dean’s loud yawn echo throughout the field.

“What time is it?” Dean asked from the ground.

“A little after nine,” Cas replied as he looked at his watch. He picked out two Nutri Grain bars from the groceries and threw one to Dean. He opened his with his teeth and bit into the pastry, only cringing a little when the cardboard texture hit his tongue.

Dean apparently wasn’t appeased either. “Ugh, this is like the rabbit food Sammy’s always trying to get us to eat. We’ve got time before we need to get back to Bobby’s. Wanna find a diner to get real food?”

Cas nodded, and then threw his bar into the bushes. Dean followed suit, and grabbed his jacket off the ground before standing, wobbling a little as he oriented himself.

“Whoa…what did we drink last night?” Dean asked as he pinched his forehead.

“Whiskey. And a lot of it,” Cas replied as he packed up the food again. “It isn’t your friend.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Dean groaned. “Are you up for driving? I don’t think I can.”

“Of course,” Cas replied as he caught the keys Dean threw at him. “You’ll be fine once we get a little coffee in you. Wanna hit up that diner we saw on 81?”

Dean grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

An hour (and one long car ride of fighting for radio control) later, Cas pulled the Impala into the tiny diner off the freeway. They piled out and then walked into the building, a little bell chirping as they took their places at a booth. They looked at the menus (or Cas did; Dean just threw it aside and said to give him anything with grease involved), and then ordered their food from a cute waitress on rollerblades. The name tag that was pinned to her uniform said her name was Cassie.

Dean practically drooled after she left, watching the kitchen for her to skate by.

And it didn’t bring a bout of jealousy at all. Nope. He was totally fine with it. At least that’s what he told himself when Cassie came back with their food and spent at least ten minutes flirting with Dean, totally ignoring Cas and his waffles.

“So…you should totally call me,” Cassie said after she thoroughly bantered with Dean, and then slipped a piece of paper over to him. “If you’re ever in the area and are looking for a little…fun.”

Dean blushed lightly and then accepted the paper, grinning like an idiot as she rolled away on her skates.

Cas waited until the girl was out of earshot to talk.

“What was that?” Cas asked as he took another bite of his waffle, probably with more gusto than was necessary.

Dean turned his gaze down to his burger and took a bite, moaning around the taste. “I’m sorry, Cas, but I’m not talking about anything but this burger. It may be better than sex…not that you would know,” Dean laughed as he eyed Cas teasingly.

He ignored Dean’s jibe at his virginity and pushed forward. “You didn’t answer the question. What was that? Did you forget about your girlfriend?”

“Geez, Cas, it was just a little flirting! Betcha ten bucks that we won’t even have to pay for our meals because of that. It’s not like we’re made of money, Cas.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to flirt with the waitress. Is this going to be a common theme, Dean? Because if it is, I don’t know if I can take it without telling Robin.”

Dean glared at Cas over his burger. “Is that a promise, Novak?”

He gripped his fork tighter and said, “Yes it is, Winchester.”

They spent the rest of the meal in tense silence, Cas glaring at Dean everytime he tried to make eye contact.

“Well, here’s your receipt!” Cassie said jovially as she skated back over, checkbook in hand. “Now don’t tell anyone, but I waived your food because you guys were so great. My boss would fire me in an instant though if she found out, so no talking about it!” she said with a flirtatious grin.

Dean didn’t return the excitement this time around. Instead, he just threw a five dollar bill at her for a tip and got up from the booth without saying a word, gesturing for Cas to follow.

They climbed back into the car and Cas pulled onto the freeway, trying to ignore Dean’s pissy attitude beside him.

“Where are we even going?” Cas asked as he came to an exit, merging onto I-97.

Dean remained quiet as he drummed his fingers against the window.

“I said, where are we going? Is Bobby expecting us yet?” Cas tried again.

When Dean didn't answer, Cas just pulled over and turned towards him. “Are you going to be this way all the time? Getting mad when I point out that you have a serious girlfriend? Aren’t you committed to Robin?”

“Of course!” Dean blew up, his hands curling into fists. “I care about your sister, Castiel, even if you don’t think I do. That flirting meant nothin’ to me, okay? It was just a way to get us free food and it worked, so I don’t know why you’re so angry.”

“I’m angry because even if it was to get free food, I don’t appreciate you leading people on like that,” Cas chided. “It’s wrong and you know it.”

“Oh, so now you’re the chivalry police? Do I need to put my coat down for girls to walk on too?” Dean yelled back.

“No, it’s called being a decent person,” Cas quietly replied through his teeth. “Leading people on and flirting with them to get free things is not being a decent person.”

“Whatever, Cas,” Dean replied as he turned to glare out the window, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Ass,” Cas whispered under his breath as he turned back towards the road and headed out onto the freeway, not even bothering to find out if they were going in the right direction.

They stayed that way well after they arrived back at Bobby’s, the next few hours filled with a thrumming silence that put Cas on edge. This wasn’t how Cas wanted this trip to go; it was supposed to be easy, a fun last minute adventure with his best friend. He shouldn’t have been getting jealous over the pretty girls Dean flirted with, or thinking about the fact that his disgustingly unrequited crush could be more than just that, a crush.

It’s those thoughts that spurred Cas to walk into their shared bedroom to apologize. If Dean was going to be up here working for Bobby, and he was going to be in New Haven for college, he didn’t want them to part ways on bad terms.

Cas walked in on Dean curled up on the bed with a Billy Joel song crooning from the radio. Dean just glared at him as he entered.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas blurted out.

Dean blanched back at him. “Excuse me?”

“I…I should not have pushed you earlier. It was a big mistake.”

Dean ran fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. He flicked his gaze down to the ground and toed the edge of the bed with his foot. “Cas…you were right earlier. I should be the one apologizing. When I became Robin’s boyfriend I promised that I’d cut the flirty crap with other girls, and just because she’s not here doesn’t mean that is not still true.”

Cas smiled at the unexpected apology. “Well, I’m glad you see it that way. Robin would be pleased to know that.”

“And that’s why I’m gonna do everything in my flirtatious powers to find you a girl on this trip, Cas.”

He froze. What in the world was Dean getting at? “Uh…what?” Cas squeaked out.

He flicked his gaze over to Dean quickly and saw an amused grin on his face. “Listen Cas, you’ve never been with a girl, ever, and it’s not because they don’t want you. You’re clearly too nervous to ask a girl out, so I’m gonna do it for you. What do you think of that? Maybe you’ll finally lose your virginity before college," he laughed, but Cas couldn’t get himself to go along.

 _No._ Cas thought. _No. No way. You are not going to fake liking girls just to appease Dean. You’re not. It’s wrong and against everything you nagged Dean about earlier. You will not-_

“Great!” Cas replied with way too much gusto. “That…that’d be great Dean.”

_You sir, are an idiot._

“Oh, turn up the radio! I love this one,” Dean said, but Cas only did it robotically, his mind racing with the thing he just gave Dean permission to do.

“ _I’m all out of love…so lost without you!_ ” Dean practically wailed as he leaned his head against the headboard, his eyes fluttering shut as he belted out the lyrics. “ _I know you were right, believing for so long._ ”

 _No._ Cas thought. _I can’t deal with this right now._

With a grimace on his face, Cas clicked the radio off and breathed a sigh of relief. Who knows what would have come out if Dean kept singing those words? Cas certainly didn’t trust himself to not come out and tell Dean that he had a hopeless crush on him when _All Out of Love_ was being belted.

“Dude…what are you doing? I was listening to that,” Dean complained as he reached for the dial, but Cas brought a hand up to stop him.

“Ah, I believe you were the one who said driver picks the music,” Cas said. “I was the last driver.”

He looked over and caught a glimpse of Dean’s disgruntled face before turning back to door. “I want to catch up on some reading while we’re here, and I’m sure you’re going to want to call Robin,” Cas said as he walked through the threshold. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Dean grinned back at him and grabbed the phone off the desk. “Of course. I’ll call you back in when I’m done, okay? I may need to clean some things up afterward.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean. “Are you implying that you’re planning on having phone sex with my sister? In what world is it okay tell me that?” Cas exclaimed loudly.

Dean laughed and began dialing the number. “Nah, of course not. Why’d you say that? Get your mind out of the gutter, Cas,” Dean tisked.

Cas groaned and walked out the door. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you love me anyway!” he heard Dean call, and Cas curled his fingers into his palms.

 _More than you’ll ever know_ , he thought, and then left Dean behind.

* * *

_July 9th, 1997_

Bobby only allowed them to stay for a few days before telling them to get back on the road.

“You boys could be partying with kids your own age right now instead of fixin’ up an old geezer’s car. I’m fine, really. Go to your next place and have fun.”

After a little bit of arguing between Dean and Bobby, they ended up packing up their bags and got back on the road. The freeway was empty, and Dean floored the Impala with the windows rolled down. The quiet between them wasn’t tense this time, and when they pulled over to get gas and change out drivers, Cas felt fully calm for the first time in a long time.

“There’s a motel right off of I-76,” Dean chimed in as Cas drove on the now dark freeway. “Pull off at the next exit and it’ll be on your right. It’s close to our next place too, which is convenient.”

“Which is…” Cas trailed off.

Dean dug around in his bag and pulled out the well worn piece of paper. “Uh…apparently it’s a place called The Lions Den? Dad’s letter says that it was a gaming cafe that he used to play at when he lived in Denver as a teenager. Y’know, early days of Pac-Man and all that jazz. It says, and I quote, ‘ _You boys (I’m just going to assume that you took Cas on this trip)_ ’,” Dean paused to eye Cas with a Cheshire cat grin, “‘ _…need to check out if I’m still the highest scorer on Pac-Man. Last time I checked was when we went to see you grandparents last year, and that record was still in place. Try to see if you can beat me, and if you can then I’ll know that I’ve raised you well, son._ ”

“That’s a lot of pressure to beat his record, then,” Cas commented as Dean put the paper away.

“Yeah, that’s dad for ya. Always pushing us, but it was always for the best. Let’s be real, Cas, I probably wouldn’t have graduated unless he pushed me to it.”

“Yeah, that’s probably right,” Cas said, even though he didn’t mean it. He really didn’t want to fight with Dean, so Cas just curled his fingers around the wheel a little tighter when he thought of Dean’s father.

John was…difficult to say the least. He had been an ex-Marine with a ‘man’s man’ attitude, pushing both of the boys into baseball and other ‘all American’ activities as soon as they could walk. Cas remembered growing up next door to the Winchesters, peering over their shared fence as John and Dean threw a baseball back and forth, John always chastising Dean when he missed. When they became friends in the first grade, Cas began to stay at the Winchesters’ place when his parents went on their church retreats, and Cas saw John constantly berating Dean for getting a question wrong on a test, or not being able to put John’s rifle together fast enough. That usually led to John yelling in a tirade, calling his eldest son names that should never be said around anyone, especially a child. And to top it all off, there were the constant gay slurs that were thrown around like confetti, and once Cas figured out that he was gay in freshman year, he no longer felt safe at the Winchester household.

Of course he never told Dean any of this, and instead put up with John’s antics all throughout high school. What else was Cas going to do? Every time Dean came over, his parents tried to convert him, and once Dean began dating Robin, the three of them always spent their afternoons in the Winchesters’ garage anyway, listening to Van Halen as they did homework in the plaid couches. He could put up with John’s words if it meant being friends with Dean. He was fine. There were no rules to being gay; he could get out of Lawrence and then come out, no one but Dean and Robin the wiser.

And yet, his best friend’s worshipful attitude towards his father worried Cas to the core. What if he came out and Dean took the attitude of his father? What if he would be disgusted, or worse, would call him names like John? What if their friendship was ruined because Dean couldn't accept who Cas was?

These thoughts raced through his mind as he found the next exit, but he pushed them off when he found a sign for the Paradise Motel, the ‘no vacancy’ sign dimmed. When he pulled up to the sketchy place, he gazed on at the brick exterior and the atrocious green doors. Nothing about this place seemed safe, but it’s where Dean directed them.

“Trust me,” Dean called as he got out of the car and headed for the front entrance, leaving a gaping Cas behind.

He wanted to trust Dean, he did, but…could he?

Dean turned when Cas didn’t follow. “Buddy…what’s up?”

Cas walked forward and pushed past Dean. “Nothing. Let’s just get this stay over with.”

The inside was no better than the outside. Pink flamingos lined the receptionist area and the beige wallpaper was peeling, revealing a dull brown underneath. The young boy behind the counter barely looked twelve, and the late hour had his eyes drooping as he flipped the pages of his comic book.

Cas cleared his throat as the approached the desk and hit the bell. The boy looked up with disinterest in his eyes, giving Dean and Cas a once over before turning towards the back wall, throwing them a card without another word.

“Room 180, out the door and on the right,” the boy said as he turned back to his comic book, waving them away.

With a shove from Dean, Cas found himself turning away from the boy and walking out into the dim night, trying to find their room among the lines of faded out numbers.

“Found it,” Dean replied after walking the line of rooms at least five times, and Cas inserted the key into the lock easily. When he opened the door though, he didn’t expect to find their room to be covered in roses, a big bed taking up most of the space.

“What even…” Dean whispered under his breath, and it didn’t take more than a five second glance into the room for Dean to go storming back out into the lobby, Cas at his heels.

“Do you think that’s funny?” Dean called as he reentered the area, the boy looking up from his comic with a neutral expression on his face.

“What’s funny? I gave you guys the best room we’ve got. Anything for a couple of honeymooners,” the boy replied with a grin.

Cas stared at the boy open mouthed while Dean did the same. He thought they were a couple? Really?

“I’m not gay, and neither is Cas,” Dean told the boy, and Cas bit his tongue from retaliating. Probably telling Dean that he’s wrong was not a good idea when they were in the middle of a very public lobby.

“You aren’t? Oh…I thought…” the boy trailed off, a light pink rising to his face.

“Yeah, but you thought wrong, bucko. Now give us a room with two beds or so help me God-“

“Dean!” Cas interrupted, coming forward to lay a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s a mistake. You don’t need to chew the boy out about it.” Cas turned towards the desk. “Look, what my friend is trying to say is that we would prefer a room with two beds, if that’s okay.”

“It better be okay,” Cas heard Dean whisper under his breath, and he couldn’t help but reach back and lightly punch him on the arm.

“Stop being a big jerk,” Cas replied, and then turned back to the boy. “So…what do you say to that?”

The boy slid further down in his chair and looked up at them from under his eyelashes. “I’m sorry guys, but that’s the only room available for the night. If you want to stay here, then that’s where you’ll have to stay. We have a few doubles opening up tomorrow, and we can switch you then.”

“That will be fine, thank you,” Cas answered before Dean got the chance to, and with a nod he guided Dean back out to the car.

“Cas…what are we gonna do in the freaking honeymoon room?” Dean complained while they pulled their bags from the back.

“Sleep, like always?” Cas asked as he pulled one bag onto his arm, the other into his hand. “If you don’t remember, we shared a bed at Ellen’s and that was for a month. This is for what, one night? What’s your issue with this?”

Dean grunted as they walked back into the room. “My problem is that this isn’t Ellen’s tiny room where it was expected. This is a freaking honeymoon room with roses and candles and all that girly stuff! I can’t stay in there and keep my manhood, Cas! I can’t!”

Cas groaned. “Dean…it is literally for one night. Get over yourself and sleep with me.”

He immediately blushed at the choice of words.

Luckily, Dean chose to ignore the comment. “Fine, but nobody will know about this. Not Sammy or Robin or even my mother. Nobody, ya hear?”

“As you wish,” Cas muttered under his breath as they put their bags down.

It wasn’t that terrible once Cas got a better look it at. Gaudy and over the top? Yes. Worth Dean’s complaining? No. The pink was everywhere, like someone threw a bottle of Pepto Bismo on the walls and sheets, but it wasn’t overbearing. The bed cover was hideous, but didn’t look dirty nor was it crawling with insects. The carpet was a little worse for wear, but at least there were scarce stains.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Cas said, but Dean was ignoring him, and instead lightly pushed down on the mattress.

“No way,” Dean exclaimed with a smile, then threw himself onto the bed and practically groaned when his body hit the pillows. (Cas was going to ignore the little zing of heat that went through his body at the noise, because he was totally going to ignore his big crush on Dean, at least for tonight.)

“Dude…it’s memory foam. I’ve only heard tales about this thing,” he said as a little grin lit up his face. “C’mon, man, get in!”

With a sigh, Cas stepped back a few steps and catapulted himself onto the bed, nearly landing on Dean in the process.

“Better than sleeping on the ground,” Cas said as he nuzzled into the fluff. “I want one.”

“Yeah, me too. Who knows though, it’s possible that Naomi will splurge on you and Robin when you go to college. Convince her to get you one for your fancy dorm room,” Dean laughed.

Cas turned over. “You clearly do not know my mother if you think she’d spend anything on us. All extra funds go to the church, remember?”

“Yeah yeah, I was only joking around,” Dean commented. He turned towards the edge of the bed and rolled off, going for his duffle. “I’m gonna shower if that’s okay. I’ll try to be quiet when I come back.”

Cas nodded. “Okay, but you’re well aware that is not going to happen. You’re like a bull in a china shop.”

Dean only laughed before entering the bathroom, and once Cas heard the water going he went to his own bag and pulled out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, changing quickly before Dean came back out. When he was in his pajamas, Cas climbed back into bed and pulled the covers close, burrowing in the warmth he found there.

His eyes fluttered closed easily, and Cas fell asleep.

* * *

_July 10th, 1997_

The next morning came quicker than Cas would’ve liked. Dean’s obnoxious snoring woke him up before dawn, the man taking up at least half of the bed. Cas turned towards the figure and pushed, laughing a little when Dean rolled over and ended up on the floor.

“Ugh…what?” Dean’s low voice rang from the ground.

“Stop snoring,” Cas groaned as he turned over. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”

“Good morning to you too, Cas,” Dean chimed as he pushed himself off the ground. “What time even is it?”

“Too early,” Cas replied as he closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him in its arms again. “Go back to bed, Dean.”

He felt the bed dip next to him as Dean climbed back in. Silence filled the room and Cas felt the first rays of sunshine filtering in through the window, coaxing him back into a pleasant sleep.

However, it didn’t last long. Just as the familiar darkness encroached on his vision, Cas felt Dean’s presence shift, and the next thing he knew the covers were being thrown off the bed. A chill rushed through Cas’s body and he groaned loudly, opening his eyes to glare at the assailant.

“Dammit Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean grinned like a cat as he began tugging on Cas’s ankle. “If we get up early then we can be the first ones at the arcade. C’mon, Cas. It looks like the sun is comin’ up. The day is young and so are we!”

Cas ignored Dean’s peppy tone and turned back over. “Later,” he muttered. “You’re too much of a morning person.”

“And you’re a grumpy grandpa in the morning,” Dean commented as he padded over to Cas’s side. “C’mon, Cas! Get up or else I’ll start yelling Zeppelin lyrics, and nobody wants that now, do they?”

Cas sighed. “If it means you’ll shut up and drive us to a diner, I’ll get up. But you better buy me coffee!” Cas called as he watched Dean leave the room, a light laughter the only thing left behind.

* * *

“She’s cute. Wanna talk her up?”

Cas avoided Dean’s not-so-subtle gaze towards a waitress across the room. He’d been doing this ever since they got their menus from a blonde hostess who caught Dean’s eye. Every woman who walked by Dean would discreetly point to, and then ask if she was someone Cas could see himself with. It was exhausting, and Cas’s sleepy disposition was not helping the irritation growing underneath.

“No, Dean. For the thousandth time, there is no one in this diner I want to talk to. Can you let it go and eat your damn pancakes already?”

“Geez, we’ve gotta get you some more coffee before we go to the arcade. Don’t want you to be grumpy when I beat my old man’s score,” Dean said as he flagged down the waiter that was serving them.

A man in a tight white shirt approached them with a bright smile on his face. “What can I get you gentlemen?” he asked.

_If only Dean realized that this is more what I’m looking for._

“Yeah, can we get another round of coffee…Aaron?” Dean asked as he read the man’s name tag. “And make it fast. We’ve got a date with the arcade in fifteen.”

Aaron nodded. “Ah, gamers? We get a lot of them in here because The Lion’s Den is right next door. Let me guess…you two are trying to beat the legendary Pac-Mac score?”

Cas watched as Dean’s face turned up into a little grin, his body inching closer to Aaron’s. “Yeah…actually my ol’ man is the one who holds the record. John Winchester.”

Aaron laughed loudly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “No way, you’re Winchester’s boy? Guy’s a legend in these parts. I guess he used to come into this diner a lot as a kid, trying to beat the Pac-Man whenever he could. Rumor has it that he finally beat it on the last day he lived in Denver, but who knows if that’s true.”

Cas watched as Dean came alive before him. He leaned in even closer, his face gleaming up at Aaron’s excited gaze. “Well, if you wanna watch me beat his record later, you can stop on by after your shift. I love a little company.”

He jerked up at that. Was Dean flirting…with another man? He wouldn’t even let himself entertain the possibility of Dean being anything other than straight, but he couldn’t ignore what was happening right before his eyes.

The way Aaron was blushing suggested that yes, Dean was flirting. Cas had no idea what to do with that information.

“Well, you’re gonna need to watch out for that little redhead,” Aaron said as he leaned back on his heels. “Word is that she’s close to beating the record, and she’ll hole up there all day from open to close. Getting her away from that game will take a little bit of work.”

Cas finished eating the waffles on his plate and then pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Then we better get going then, Dean. It’s been nice talking to you, Aaron,” Cas said as he eyed the man, and then got out of the booth. “That should cover everything. Keep the change.”

He didn’t watch to see if Dean followed. Cas just stalked out of the diner to get fresh air, breathing in the bustling scent of Denver into his being. It did nothing for his thoughts though, the unanswered question blaring like a bullhorn. Could it be possible that Dean is into guys after all? What if he was really into Aaron? _…What if he could be into me?_

“Left a little quickly there, Cas,” Dean commented as he walked out with his hands in his pockets, eyeing him from afar. “What’s up?”

Cas put on a fake grin before he turned in Dean’s direction, trying to hide the confusion. “Nothing, nothing at all. Just thought you’d want to get going, that’s all.”

Dean eyed him warily but made no comment. He just looped past Cas with a shrug and entered the arcade with a purpose, beelining for the giant machine in the corner. He got to work right away, pulling out a bag of coins from his jacket and inserting one into the game. The familiar noises of Pac-Man blared through the empty arcade, and Cas watched as Dean furrowed his brow in concentration as his fingers gripped the control. Little bouts of colorful cusses came out when he got eaten.

While Dean played, Cas wandered over to the line of computers that were attached to the wall. He clicked one on and aimlessly went through his email as Dean’s Pac-Man got eaten again and again, laughing a little any time Dean yelled out ‘son of a bitch!”

Cas was so caught up in his own world that he didn’t notice when the bell above the door chimed lightly and footsteps entered the arcade, coming in his direction.

“Dammit!” Dean cussed again as he threw in another coin, his eyes focusing on the screen in front of him.

“He probably shouldn’t be cussing in here,” a little voice rang out beside him. “Kids spend a lot of time in here during the day.”

Cas turned and found a girl who couldn’t have been older than fifteen next to him. Her red hair was fiery and her eyes were bright, filled with tenacity and a playfulness that Cas immediately felt drawn to. Her glasses were perched low on her nose and she brought a finger up to push them back in place, grinning as she turned in Cas’s direction.

“Yeah well, that is Dean for you. He’s not really one for…censors.”

The girl nodded and stuck out her hand. “Name’s Charlie, Charlie Bradbury.”

Cas grabbed it and shook back. “I’m Castiel Novak and that’s my friend Dean Winchester over there.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “Winchester? As in the Winchester that I’ve been trying to beat for months now?”

“Well technically it’s the son,” Cas corrected her. “We’re kinda on a mission from John. He asked Dean to beat his record and he’s determined to do it. I don’t know if it’s possible though; John was a helluva Pac-Mac player.”

Charlie glanced over at Dean, who was feeding another quarter into the machine. “Good luck, then. I’ve been trying for months and I only got close last week.”

Cas groaned. “Well, we don’t exactly have weeks. More like a few days, tops. We’re kinda on a road trip,” he told Charlie. “Visiting all his father’s old haunts, things like that. I guess a woman named Pamela is expecting us down in Texas, and he was really trying to beat the score before we have to take off. I guess it’s not going to happen though.”

Charlie raised her eyebrows at Cas before walking over to the machine. “Never say never, Castiel. I mean, a nerdy fifteen year old, a boy who looks like he could model for Trucker’s Weekly, and a guy named after the angel of Thursday should be able to beat this, right? We’ve just got to work together.”

“How did you…” Cas trailed off as he followed behind her.

Charlie laughed lowly. “Religious parents. They are all about the angel business. My real name is Celeste, but never tell anyone that. If you do, then I’ll have to find you, and… y’know.”

Dean huffed out a breath as once again the music of defeat rang out over the speakers. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, then turned towards Cas and Charlie. “Okay, I give up. You’ve got any ideas, Liam Neeson?”

The girl eyed Dean coyly at the nickname, then pushed him aside. “You’re playing the game all wrong. Your dexterity is fast, but you’re too busy trying to be quick. Your mistakes are obvious ones that could be fixed if you focused.”

She slipped a coin out of her pocket and deposited it into the machine. “Watch me. I’ve got the focus, but I’m not fast enough to get away in the later rounds. I think if we combined our efforts, we could beat this once and for all. What do you think of that?”

Both boys nodded, watching as Charlie began playing the game. It turned out that she was right; her playing was excellent, but she couldn't toggle the control fast enough to not get eaten after a few levels. She gave it another go as she dropped in another coin, and the familiar tune filled the arcade. A group of acne ridden boys began to gather, regulars Cas assumed from the way they greeted Charlie like an old friend.  Soon enough everyone was watching this little redhead trying to beat the infamous score, her lips quirked up in concentration as Dean called out instructions to go faster. However, the entire room groaned when Charlie’s Pac-Man was eaten again, and she glared at the machine.

“Damn thing is rigged, I’m telling you,” Charlie muttered under her breath. “I was so close that time too!”

“I’ve got an idea.” Dean walked past Charlie and gestured for her to give him a quarter. She complied, and then leaned over Dean’s form to see the game. “You’ve got the brains, I’ve got the brawn. You tell me what to do and I’ll go as fast as I can. Together, we can beat it.”

“Good idea,” Charlie replied, and then glanced over at Cas. “Cas can cheerlead.”

“Very funny. Now get going. The fans are waiting.”

Dean and Charlie turned back to the machine and put the coin into it. Immediately Charlie began instructing Dean on where to go, and the two of them were working flawlessly with one another. As the game went on, other boys entered the arcade and began cheering them on with everyone else. And then, after about an hour of constant play, Charlie let out a yell as Dean won another level and officially beat John’s score.

“We did it!”

Cas couldn’t help himself; he threw his hands in the air and yelled, fist pumping with the rest of the teenagers who had gathered. In a chorus of Charlie and Dean’s names, everyone crowded out of the tiny arcade and into the street, fist bumping and giving high fives to both champions.

This went on for at least fifteen minutes before the throngs of people began to disperse, some going back into the arcade to finally play a few rounds for themselves while others walked over to the ice cream shop across the street. After awhile, it was only Charlie, Cas, and Dean left outside the arcade, the sun now set behind the horizon.

“Well, my mom is probably wondering where I am. Better head home,” Charlie said. “But there’s no way I’m losing touch with you guys. Numbers. Now.”

Obediently, Cas and Dean wrote down their home numbers on the paper Charlie scrounged out of her backpack, and with a smile she folded them up and tucked them safely away into her pocket.

“Call me if you’re ever back in the area. I’d love to take you down in another game.”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen,” Dean muttered under his breath, and then laughed as he dodged a weak punch from Charlie. “You better not lose that feistiness until I see you again. I think it’ll work well for you in life.”

Charlie threw both boys a gleaming grin before she began backing away. “I promise I will keep up with being a sarcastic little dork if you do,” she called.

“Deal!” Dean yelled back, and then waved as she ran off into the distance.

“I like her,” Cas said once she was out of sight. “She’s got charisma.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be good friends. Now c’mon, Cas. I think you owe me a celebratory ice cream cone from Tiana’s Ice Cream over there,” Dean replied with a quirked up grin, throwing his arm over Cas’s shoulder. “Unless you can think of other ways to entice me.”

Cas swatted Dean’s arm away and tried to hide the bright blush that was coloring his cheeks. “Yeah yeah yeah, you can’t afford this,” Cas jibed back, and then ran off towards the ice cream parlor without looking back.

* * *

_Present Day_

“Where the hell are we?”

Cas parked the car in an open, grassy field, gazing out into the chaos around them. People in medieval garb wandered between tents, brandishing fake swords. Women and men were adorned in dresses, flitting around others who were dressed as knights and kings. Cas’s eyes flew back and forth across the area, but he didn’t catch a glimpse of anyone who looked like Charlie.

“It’s a LARPing event,” Cas said as he got out of the Impala, gesturing for Dean to do the same. “This is where Charlie told us to meet.”

Dean let out of huff of breath. “She never mentioned that we were going to be in a literal remake of Dungeons and Dragons.  I thought we would spend our time in Colorado hitting up the old haunts, y’know? That arcade is probably still there…” Dean trailed off when he got a glare from Cas. “What?” he asked.

Cas sighed as he moved into the crowds of people, only hoping that Dean was following him. “When we called up Charlie and told her we were coming, she said that she already had plans. If you want to see her, then this is what you’re going to do. Besides, she said over the phone that she wants us to meet her new girlfriend, remember? She’s the fairy queen here or something,” Cas replied as he dodged a less than coordinated juggler, ducking out of the way just as the man fell to the ground at his feet.

“Can’t we meet this girl after they’re done playing dress up?” Dean whined, and Cas couldn’t believe it. How could Dean’s overblown masculinity be such a fragile thing?

“You told me that you watch Game of Thrones. Just imagine that we’re in Westeros instead of Medieval England.”

Dean grumbled, but made no other noise as they wandered through the crowd, trying to find anyone with bright red hair. People swarmed them with trinkets to buy and foam swords were pushed in their faces, but Cas just politely declined as they walked, trying to ignore the overzealous LARPers.

They didn’t get far before a scene stopped them. In the middle of the field two knights were fighting, their arms flailing as they hit and jabbed one another with fake swords. They both wore imitation armor, and the crowd cheered them on. One fan even yelled to ‘hit them where it hurts’ when the bigger of the two knights knocked down the smaller one.

“Okay…this is actually not that bad,” Dean whispered in Cas’s ear as they watched the fight, the combatants moving back and forth in an intricate dance.

“Told you,” Cas responded, then brought up a hand to card through his hair. “Besides, I think knight two is going to win in three….two…one.”

As if Cas were psychic, the smaller of the two knights knocked the bigger one to the ground and held the imitation sword to their chest, thus signaling their victory. Cheers arose as the bigger of the two knights drew off his helmet, a very brute looking man glaring up at the other knight from underneath their weight.

“All hail the Queen of Moons!” a jester cried out from the sidelines, and then with a swift move of her hand, Charlie revealed herself as the second knight, turning to throw a tiny grin at Dean and Cas.

“Nice you see you again, boys.”

* * *

After a quick donning of a crown, Charlie took both Dean and Cas by the hand and led them to a large tent on the outskirts of the field, the Rocky Mountains towering behind it. They were shooed through the flaps and Cas gazed around the area, taking in the various patterned pillows that were laid out on the ground, the piles of armor and costumes in the corner, and the imposing chessboard that took up most of the room’s center. The place was impressive, Cas had to admit.

With an apologetic grin, Charlie threw two bags of gear at them, saying that she had to run off to meet Gilda before the daily feast and that they should be dressed in the outfits by the time she got back. With a quick wave goodbye, Charlie exited the tent and left Cas totally alone with Dean.

“Well, we better get geared up then,” Dean said as he reached into the bag, pulling out a tan garment. “Cas, is it only me, or does this look like classic handmaiden wear?”

Cas glanced over at the gear and laughed. “It looks like you’re Charlie’s servant for the day, Dean,” he laughed as he pulled out his own gear, a robe and hat that looked like it belonged to a wizard. “And apparently I’m her magical advisor.”

Dean pushed his lips down into a frown and shrugged, picking up the armor from the ground. “I’m gonna…y’know…change and…stuff,” Dean said as he paced towards the curtain set up in the corner, his eyes awkwardly scanning the room.

“Go ahead,” Cas replied, then watched as Dean shuffled behind the curtain. His regular clothes flew over the veil as he undressed, and Cas cringed as a shirt hit him in the face.

“Watch where you’re throwing!” Cas called as a sock hit him. His face scrunched up at the smell. “And would it be that much of an inconvenience to wash your socks?”

He heard Dean’s loud sigh from across the room. “Okay, Mom,” Dean joked as he emerged fully clothed, the chainmail fitting his body almost perfectly.

Cas had to quickly remind himself that he was supposed to be over Dean and his beauty, but that was hard when he was attired in tight clothing with the light from above highlighting his good bone structure.

“Uh…” Cas said as he picked up his own clothes, walking behind Dean while he avoided his gaze, “I’m not your mother.”

“No shit,” Dean replied as he turned around, trying to catch Cas’s timid gaze once again. “Is…something wrong?”

Cas felt his gut flip at the words, his fingers tightening on the bag of clothes. “Uh, nothing! I’ll just go…uh…change,” he said, then went and hid behind the veil.

 _What are you even doing?_ Cas thought. _You are supposed to be over Dean, not drooling at his feet, idiot._ _He didn’t want you back then. What makes you think he’d want you now?_

With a huff of breath, Cas ignored all the questions he had about Dean and opened the bag. Wordlessly he pulled off his clothes, and donned the robe and pants in the bag. With a quick look in the mirror behind the veil, Cas pulled the wizard hat on his head and laughed at the image. He looked absolutely ridiculous, and he loved it.

“Cas? You coming?” Dean called out from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, coming,” Cas replied as he came out from behind the curtain, and couldn’t hide the laugh that escaped his lips when he found Dean applying face paint…all while wearing a bright, blonde wig.

“What are you doing?” Cas questioned through the giggles, coming up to grab one of the face paint tubes from the table. “Is this some type of tradition?”

“Just trying to get into the LARPing thing,” Dean said as he applied a line of white on his cheek, “and these were just laying around. Thought I’d go all Braveheart, y’know?”

“You’re an idiot,” Cas said with a smile, then reached over and grabbed a tube of paint for himself. Following Dean’s design, Cas applied a thin layer of blue acrylic to his fingers and brought it up to his face, leaving two identical lines on both cheeks. It was nowhere near as intricate as Dean’s design, but he didn’t get a chance to experiment before Charlie came crashing back into the tent, a beautiful brunette woman following closely behind.

“No, I won that fight fairly! Justin can just take it up with the court if he feels otherwise.”

The brunette sighed and laced her fingers through Charlie’s. “I never implied that it wasn’t fair, I’m just reporting what I heard. I thought you kicked his ass and it was great,” the girl whispered, then leaned in to lay a quick kiss on Charlie’s cheek.

Cas grinned when Charlie blushed a bright red.

After a little cough from Dean to break the two up, Charlie proudly brought their entwined hands up into the air. “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Gilda. Gilda, this is Cas and Dean,” she said.

Gilda smiled at them and noted how pleased she was to finally meet Charlie’s friends, then quickly gave Charlie one last kiss before she left the tent.

“She’s busy today. Usually there’s a few fairies running around the camp, y’know, telling people that they’ll do well in battles and all that, but Becky had to back out and Dorothy’s visiting her grandma in Kansas,” Charlie explained as she picked up one of the fake swords from the corner, shoving it in Dean’s hands. “Which means that I’ll be able to dedicate all my time to helping you two get into battle. There’s one that’s gonna begin in about…eh…five minutes or so. You’ll be ready by then.”

Cas stared back at Charlie with a blank expression. “Charlie…you know we’ve never…LARPed before, right?”

Charlie quirked a brow at him and then turned towards Dean. “You didn’t tell him?”

Cas flicked his eyes over to Dean. “It’s not somethin’ I exactly brag about, Char,” Dean said with an embarrassed expression.

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently. “I thought you were over this! Don’t listen to what other people say about you; LARPing is cool, despite what others think,” she said, then looked at Cas again. “Dean and I are kinda professionals by now. Ever since we met in Denver, we’ve been meeting up every few months to LARP. Sometimes he’ll come here, or more likely than not I’ll go to Lawrence. Your town’s got a great team of LARPers, y’know.”

No, Cas didn’t know, because he hadn’t called Lawrence his town in years, but he didn’t bother to get into the details of that with Charlie. Instead, he turned and grinned widely at Dean, who was now  beet red under his face paint and wig.

“I knew you were overcompensating earlier,” Cas said as he pulled his robe closer to his body. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Dean groaned and toyed with the fake sword in his hand. “I dunno, Cas. We haven’t exactly been that close since this trip started. Didn’t feel the need to tell you, that’s all.”

Cas tried not to feel hurt at Dean’s honesty, but it was hard when Dean looked like a kicked puppy in front of him. He knew that if they were going to call themselves friends again, they still had a long way to go, but hearing it phrased that way made Cas’s bones ache for what they had before.

If he was being honest with himself, it made Cas wish he could’ve gone back and fixed it all, wished he could’ve taken the rejection better instead of just running away to college, leaving all his friends behind because of one (albeit, large) fight in his flawless friendship with Dean. But life doesn’t work that way, and the fallout between him and Dean couldn’t be put back together that quickly.

He didn’t get time to think about it more before Charlie grabbed a few more items from the pile and ushered them out of the tent. She led them to an open field where other people dressed like them were crowded, two groups talking quietly in a circle.

“They’re in battle planning,” Charlie whispered, trying not to disturb the quiet of the area.

“There is usually a few words to encourage the troops before they enter the field. Oh, and by the way, you’ll need this, Cas.”

Charlie looked at the items in her hands and then gave a paintball gun to Cas. “No shots that could cause harm to the LARPers are allowed; basically focus on the arms and legs and you’ll be golden,” Charlie replied. “I told my friend Garth that you’ll be joining his group over there,” she said, pointing to a crowd led by a short guy on a pedestal, his armor way too big for his tiny body.

“Is he even legal?” Dean asked under his breath.

Charlie glared back. “Dean Winchester, don’t you dare be mean to him. Garth is great…and he’s also Gilda’s brother so I don’t need you embarrassing me in front of the future brother-in-law, okay?”

Cas nodded in Charlie’s direction, but Dean just laughed. “What? Already planning the wedding? You’ve been dating for what…five months now?”

“Will you stop being an idiot and get over there?” Charlie hissed under her breath, and then pushed them both towards the crowd of LARPers.

“…And with enough tact and grace, we’ll be able to win this thing, y’all!” Garth called from the podium, raising his weakly disguised paintball gun into the air.

The others complied and did the same, then Cas followed the other wizards, raising his hands and wiggling fingers as a call rang out from around the group.

“I feel ridiculous!” Cas called to Dean, but he was preoccupied with the group himself, patting guys on the back as he made his way to the front, sword in the air as he went through the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Dean called, and Cas only stood still as he watched his friend put on a serious expression, eyebrows pressed together as he brought the sword back down to the ground. “Sons and daughters of Scotland, I am William Wallace.”

_Oh no._

The crowd went absolutely still at his words, the LARPers whispering back and forth to one another in hushed voices. All the while, Dean paced the front of the area, looking on at the group with fire in his eyes. Cas thought he’d just charge right then and there, but instead he leaned on the plastic sword and eyed Cas was a familiar expression, one Cas’d become accustomed to over the years. It was a look that yelled ‘A little help, please?’

With a sigh, Cas complied and raised his hands in the air. “William Wallace is 7 feet tall,” he recited from memory, and he couldn’t help but copy Dean’s grin when the other man went right back into character, yelling the speech again with pride.

“Yes, I've heard!,” Dean yelled as he began pacing once again. “Kills men by the hundreds, and if he were here he'd consume the English with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse. I am William Wallace. And I see a whole army of my countrymen here in defiance of tyranny. You have come to fight as free men, and free men you are. What would you do without freedom? Will you fight?”

Cas didn’t need to wait for Dean’s instruction this time around. Next to him, Garth called out, “Fight? Against that? No, we will run; and we will live.”

Dean laughed lowly and finished the speech with emphasis. “Aye, fight and you may die. Run and you'll live -- at least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!”

Roars broke out after the speech was over, and without even realizing it the group turned and charged, Cas almost getting caught up in the crossfire as he floundered with his paintball gun. It wasn’t until Dean grabbed his arm that he turned around and began running with the others, the opposing group totally caught off guard by their attack. Cas followed the lead of the other wizards and ran towards them, joining in on their intricate chant and hand movements. To his left, Cas could make out the other group charging back, swords and wands and paintball guns coming up into the air, the sound of plastic on plastic ringing out through the field, and on his right he could see Dean fighting a knight that looked a lot like the one Charlie defeated earlier, the two caught in a dance of swords as the war raged on. It was sort of beautiful, the way Dean moved like his life depended on it. One minute he’d be in the line of a hit, then the next he’d be on the ground, rolling away from the blow. The other knight couldn’t keep up, and he totally was taken aback when Dean rolled behind him and jabbed him the back. He threw Dean a scowl as he slinked to the sidelines with the other “fallen” LARPers.

“Gotta be faster if you’re gonna catch me!” Dean called through his laughter, watching as the knight glared back with fire in his eyes.

He was so caught up in the victory that he didn’t even notice the boy with a paintball gun behind him, getting ready to shoot.

Cas’s eyes opened wide when he took in the scene. “Dean, look out!” Without looking, Cas raised his own paintball gun and made a shot at the knight. When he heard the sound of a paintball hitting an opponent, he opened his eyes and looked for the boy. He was nowhere to be found, and Dean lay on the ground with a big, blue paintball hit on his leg.

“Dean!” Cas called as he ran over to his friend’s body on the ground. He heard Dean’s loud moans coming from the field, and one of the players had the decency to call a hold on the play.  He had to push past the LARPers who were gathering around Dean’s body, but after a few light jabs he got to Dean’s side, hands automatically reaching for the place on impact.

“Aye, I’ve been taken down!” Dean cried out through the pain, his face pulled together.

“Wha, what can I do?” Cas asked as worry raged through his body. Dean’s face was turning pale and his nose was crunched up in an expression of pain. Cas’s mind flew when he realized that he was the cause of this; if he just opened his damn eyes and looked where he was shooting, Dean wouldn’t have been hurt. What if he never recovers? What if Cas needs to carry him to the infirmary and he can’t? Then Cas would feel even worse.

Of course, while all of this was running through Castiel’s head, he completely forgot that a paintball could never cause that much damage.

Dean rolled over and moaned again, then looked up into his eyes and grabbed his hand. “You can avenge this crime, Castiel Novak. I will be…avenged!”

“But I was the one who-“ Cas began.

“No, do not take the blame here, friend! I shouldn’t have been in your way. Avenge me, everyone! Avenge!”

Then, with one last look at the crowd, Dean rolled on his back and closed his eyes, all while still holding on to Cas’s hand.

Cas didn’t know what to do. He glanced around the crowd and expected someone to rush forward, offer any type of assistance, but they all just looked on with awed expressions on their faces.

“Well, is anyone going to help me with him? He’s injured! What if-“

“And that will be the end of the…scene!” Dean interrupted Cas’s little tirade, and the field roared with applause as he got up and took a bow, his leg completely fine.

Cas had no clue what was happening, and he was very aware that Dean was still gripping his hand in an embrace.

“That was epic!” Charlie cheered when she came up to them; the rest of the group went back to the battle. “Great acting, Dean!”

“Wait…you’re not injured?” Cas asked as he dropped Dean’s hand.

“Yeah dude, it’s part of the game! You’ve gotta act the part if you’re gonna get into it. Your paintball hit was great. Really brought on the emotion of the piece, y’know?”

No, Cas didn’t know, but he just nodded and went along with it anyway, not daring to ask any questions about the acting, the game, or the unnecessary hand holding that just occurred. That could all be answered later; right then, Dean and Charlie were ready to get back into battle, and Cas needed to find the other wizards again.

The rest of the afternoon kept Cas’s mind off of the earlier incident. The wizards took Cas in with open arms and taught him the proper way to LARP, filling him with information about wizardry and witchcraft as the sun set behind the horizon. And when the curator called an end to the day’s battle, Cas found that he was actually enjoying himself with this group of misfits, and even exchanged numbers with a few of the other wizards.

Charlie insisted that they grab dinner with her and Gilda before they headed back on the road towards Texas, so the four of them piled into Charlie’s tiny apartment and ate Chinese takeout as they binge watched the Star Wars movies. Charlie and Dean recited the lines perfectly in-sync with the actors while Gilda and Cas gazed on, little grins on both of their faces.

He didn’t know where he was with Dean, but in that moment, Cas couldn’t get himself to care. For that one, tiny figment in time, everything was okay.

If only that would last forever.


	5. Chapter 5

_Present Day_

As Dean drove the winding streets of Colorado, he began to wonder what the hell was going on with his life.

Just a few days ago he was hitting up strippers left and right at Angelz, and now he was holding hands with his ex-best friend while LARPing in the forests of Denver. They had only been on the road a week, and Dean had gone from wanting to bang a new person every night to imagining what a committed, monogamous relationship would feel like…particularly with someone that had raven black hair and bright blue eyes…

No, he couldn’t let himself go there again. He had his chance with Cas back in the day and he blew it. That was perfectly clear from the way Cas reacted to any physical touch by Dean; he couldn't even give the guy a high five without him turning stoic and statuesque, a physical reminder that Dean’s words left a permanent and lasting scar on Cas’s life. He had no right to be thinking about white picket fences with a man who clearly did not trust him, and if Dean was being honest with himself, had no reason to trust him. Dean not only broke his heart, he viciously bit into who Cas is, told him that he’s broken and disgusting and for what? To please his long gone father?

He didn’t get to ponder the thought further before he heard the familiar tune of an AC/DC song blaring from his phone. Dean glanced over at Cas who was fast asleep in the passenger’s seat, his head lolled against his makeshift, trench coat pillow. He didn’t even look at the caller ID before he hit the button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“ _Dean?_ ”

Dean’s grip tightened on the phone. “Ugh, Benny. I totally forgot-“

“ _To tell me that you’re hookin’ up with your ex-best friend and travelin’ the country?_ ”

“…How the hell did you know that?”

Benny went silent for a moment on the other line. “ _I…may have cornered your brother for info when I saw ‘em at a bar last night…and a few fists may’ve been thrown._ ”

“Ben-“

“ _Hey! I tried bein’ civil about it first, but Sammy ain’t exactly the type who gives info to people he don’t like, especially when he’s drunk off his ass._ ”

Dean groaned as he pulled over to the side of the road, then ran a hand over his face as he exited the car. “Only last night? Then where the hell did you think I was this past week?”

“ _I thought you were on a bender, brother. And you don’t go and bother a man when he’s on a bender. But then I realized that you ain’t goin’ on a bender without me, so I got worried._ ”

“Fine,” Dean said as he paced the road, kicking up gravel as he walked, “so now you know that I went off with Cas. Do ya think I’m an idiot?”

“ _Dean…what is this gonna accomplish? You’re out on the open road with a guy you ain’t seen in years, a guy who you were in love with-_ “

“Whoa whoa whoa, I was not in love with Cas, okay?” Dean defended as he clenched his hand into a fist, trying to fight off old memories and the confusion that came with them.

Benny sighed. “ _Brother, you don’t drunk ramble about a guy you ain’t in love with. Hell, after Irina broke up with me I wouldn’t shut up about her for months. For as long as I’ve known you it’s always Cas this or Cas that any time you’ve got more than three beers in ya._ ”

Dean couldn’t deal with this. Sure, maybe he talked about Cas when he was drunk, and maybe he would go on for hours retelling tales from their teen years, and it is possible that he’d let it slip once that he had a big crush on Cas back in the day when he was doing tequila shots on New Year's, but that didn’t mean Dean was in love with him back then, and it sure as hell didn’t mean any of those feelings still remained…did it?

“I don’t need this right now, Ben,” Dean groaned as he looked up into the night sky. His eyes followed the line of dark clouds that were billowing into the area, and he flinched when a little drop of rain landed on his forehead. “Look, a storm’s about to roll in and I’ve gotta get out of the mountains before it hits. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“ _Okay, but if the sexual tension between ya two becomes too much-_ “

Dean hung up before Benny could finish that sentence and tried to ignore the rolling of his gut when he rethought everything between him and Cas.

“Dammit,” Dean whispered as more rain hit his face. He ran to the car and threw his cell phone onto the dash, pulling out onto the narrow road as Cas’s low snores rang out beside him. The road was dark, the turns were tight, and Dean felt himself holding on for dear life as he nearly veered into another car coming around a bend. He was never a nervous driver, but that night Dean couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief once he got out of the mountains and back on the freeway.

“What’s going on?” Cas muttered from the passenger’s seat. He could hear the creaking of joints and muscle as Cas stretched out like a cat, taking up most of Dean’s personal space.

“Dude, could you wait to do your stretches once we’re at the hotel? I don’t need your arm all up in my face.”

“And I didn’t need to hear your badly hidden moans when you were jacking off to my sister’s face on our last road trip. Consider this payback.”

“I…didn’t know you heard that,” Dean replied. He felt the wave of embarrassment hit when he thought back to those frustrated nights in crappy motel rooms, Cas always a few feet away.

“Yeah, I did. You’re loud, by the way. Things I never needed to know about my best friend.”

Dean felt the grin come to his lips. “Best friend, huh?”

Cas laughed next to him. “Yes, Dean. Best friend then…and best friend now. I’ve missed you a lot, you know. Life isn’t as fun without a sarcastic asshole by your side.”

“Hey now,” Dean countered as the first roll of thunder sounded overhead, “your cousin is an exotic dancer in Vegas who is also a sarcastic asshole, and you see him pretty frequently, right?”

“That doesn’t count,” Cas countered. “Gabriel only shows up at family functions half of the time, and I haven’t been able to go see him for a couple of years now. He’s big in Vegas, way past the exotic dancer level. Last I heard, Gabe owns a casino on the strip and doesn’t get a lot of time off, so I’ve been deprived of a sarcastic asshole to entertain me,” he teased.

“Wow, so you’re only agreeing to be my friend again because I’m an ass? I feel all tingly inside, Cas.”

Cas laughed lowly next to him and let his hands fold in his lap. “No, of course not. I guess…I’ve been feeling pretty distant from the world lately and it’s nice to have another person to talk with. Life can get lonely when you walk it alone.”

Dean’s eyes flicked over to Cas’s face. Alone? Cas went to Yale. He got a law degree and was practically a legend in that world. A person that well known couldn’t possibly be walking the planet alone…unless he was not telling Dean the whole truth about his life. He felt the little flag of doubt rise in his mind, and suddenly wondered if more than a call for reconciliation landed Cas in his apartment that night.

“Why are you here, Cas?” Dean asked bluntly. “Is it really only because you want to be friends again…or is there another reason?”

He felt the air go still in the car. The noise of the rain pattering on the window was the only noise to be heard, and from the corner of his eye he saw Cas go rigid next to him.

“You’re hiding something from me, Cas.”

Cas’s hand came up to point out the window. “Deer.”

Dean quirked his eyebrows. “Dear? Is that a weird pet name or something-“

“No, Dean! Deer!” Cas shouted as he turned towards the wheel and yanked it to the right.

Everything went quite quickly then. Dean’s eyes flitted forward and saw the scared animal in his headlights, then he took hold of Cas’s hands on the wheel and skidded to the side. Their screams rang out as the Impala slipped on the wet pavement, twirling to the tune of crashing thunder and lightning until it finally hit a crescendo, metal hitting metal as the car smashed into an oncoming truck. The popping of glass hit Dean’s ears a few seconds after impact, followed by the blunt hit to the face as the airbag detonated.

After that, Dean remembered nothing.

* * *

When Dean woke up, white assaulted his vision. Everywhere he turned a brightness filled his eyes and nothing was coming up concrete.

_What the hell?_

“He’s awake!” a voice called out from afar, and Dean heard the rustling of footsteps as a body came close. “Dean? Can you hear me?”

He blinked a few times and images began to form, blurry at first before turning into crisp edges and lines. An absolutely gorgeous woman was standing before him in green scrubs, her brunette hair flung over one shoulder as she stared back at him with whiskey colored eyes. Normally she’d be exactly Dean’s type, and when he didn’t feel an automatic attraction to her, Dean’s gut began to flip from the confusion.

“My name is Lisa,” she said. “Do you know where you are? Can you answer?”

He tried to talk, but nothing came out of his cotton dry mouth. Lisa noticed and immediately grabbed the water that was on the nightstand, bringing it to his lips. He drank it quickly, loving the feeling of the ice cold liquid running down his throat.

“Ugh, that’s better,” Dean replied. “Where…am I?”

Lisa adjusted one of his IVs as she answered. “You’re at the Trinidad Community Hospital. You got quite lucky back in Tethers; no major injuries, but you were a bit confused when we first found you. Your friend took the brunt of it.”

_Cas._

“Where is he? What happened?” Dean practically yelled as he fought back against Lisa’s hands, but to no avail. The IV pulled at his arm and he let out a shout, falling back against the bed.

“Calm down, Dean. Your friend is fine. We put you both under earlier and he’s being treated in the next room over. It wasn’t as bad as it looked; a few stitches to the forehead but no injuries otherwise. You both need rest though, so I’m going to put you under for another few hours, okay?”

“Wait…” Dean trailed off, and then fell under.

* * *

Waking up was easier the next time. His body didn’t freeze into fight or flight mode like before, and when he opened his eyes he knew exactly where he was. However, just to be sure Dean listed off the facts he knew as they came. One: his name is Dean Winchester. Two: his best friend is Castiel Novak. Three: He’s in the hospital. Four: He’s not alone in the room.

_Wait…what?_

“I thought you’d never wake up, hon.”

Dean’s eyes turned towards the corner of the room where the voice rang out, and then he let out a low laugh.

“Well, I guess you’re not as psychic as I thought, Pamela.”

* * *

_ July 14th, 1997 _

Three days of driving on the road had not made Dean kind. He was sleep deprived from not stopping for rest enough, annoyed from his last call with Robin, and sick from the bad diner food he consumed at a sketchy place on the Colorado border. And yet, nothing was more irritating to Dean at the time than Cas himself.

It started off okay. They got a quick night’s rest in their honeymoon room without a hitch before Cas dragged him up at the asscrack of dawn, checking out for them so Dean didn’t get a chance to sass the kid at the front desk again.

From then on out things went downhill. Cas kept insisting that they take detours on the way, and for some reason Dean kept agreeing. The requests started off innocent enough. Cas just needed to stop to call his family at a rest area, but then he asked to visit this big, blue whale exhibit in Oklahoma. He remembered arguing and pointing out that it made no sense to hit up Catoosa on their way to Austin, but Cas just flashed his best puppy dog eyes that would put Sam’s to shame, and the next thing Dean knew he was standing next to this gigantic fish in the middle of nowhere.

Dean was ready to hit the road after that, but once again Cas hesitated, rocking back and forth on his heels as he fumbled with their map.

“If we’re going back that way, we should really stop at Amarillo. They’re got a car exhibit that’s supposed to be a popular tourist attraction down here.”

“Cas, we’re already hours out of our way. I’m not stoppin’ at a stupid exhibit.”

Cas huffed out a breath and scowled. “This vacation isn’t just about you, and I’m paying for the gas until Texas. We’re going to Amarillo.”

“Fine,” Dean snapped as he threw open the door to the Impala. “Have it your way, princess.”

They drove through the night until they reached Amarillo at the break of dawn. Cas was pleased as he beamed up at the rows of weirdly colored cars, and even Dean had to admit that the tourist trap had its perks. The cars were cool, and maybe it was worth it just to see the smile that lit up his friend’s face. However, the feeling of sentimentality didn’t last long before the annoyance kicked back in.

“Okay, I’ve seen enough,” Cas said after an hour of pacing the length of cars. “Next we should really go to this Elvis museum off of route 79-“

“Really now, Cas?” Dean snapped as he turned towards his friend. “We’re never gonna get to Pamela’s at this rate. What’s the deal?”

Cas’s smile faltered as he looked at the ground. “I just wanted-“

“No, I don’t believe that,” Dean interrupted. “Look, you’ve been acting weird ever since we left Colorado. What gives?”

“I’m…..afraidofpamela.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“I’m afraid of Pamela, okay?!” Cas yelled, and he blushed lightly when a few other visitors glanced over. “Just…get in the car.”

He did as he was told and climbed inside the safety of the Impala, and then turned to Cas’s tense form.

“Why the hell are you afraid of Pamela? You’ve met her at my birthday parties when we were kids. She’s great!”

“She’s a psychic,” Cas hissed. “I was raised to believe that psychics are only a stone's throw away from Lucifer himself, so sorry for being a little apprehensive, okay?”

Dean couldn’t help it. He reeled back in laughter and hit his palm against the wheel, letting little tears escape from the corners of his eyes. “You think Pamela is a demon?!” he got out though the laughter. “Cas, that’s rich, even coming from you!”

“Shut it you…assbutt!” Cas yelled, which only brought out a new round of laughter from Dean. “I mean it, Dean! Shut it!”

“Assbutt,” Dean giggled. “I really need to take you out more.”

Cas pouted next to him and threw his hands up in the air. “Last time I was around Pamela all of her predictions about me came true. I won the debate competition, Lucia asked me out to prom, and that dog bit my leg. She even knew what breed it would be! It’s like witchcraft!”

Dean turned on the ignition and punched the car into reverse. “Y’know, a lot of people would call that a gift, not witchcraft.”

“Yeah, a gift from the devil,” Cas muttered under his breath.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, if it will get this ‘witchcraft’ business off of your mind I’ll tell Pamela to not use it near you, but just know that I still think you’re being ridiculous.”

Cas kicked his feet up on the dashboard and crossed his arms. “And that’s fine by me.”

The rest of the ride went by at a snail’s pace. Every little thing Cas did annoyed the hell out of Dean, and everything Dean did annoyed the hell out of Cas. By the time they pulled up in front of Pamela’s vast estate in Austin’s suburbs, he was sure that both of them were just pleased that the ranch was on five acres of land.

“Are you going to call her a witch to her face too?” Dean snapped as he climbed out of the Impala.

Cas glared at him from over the hood and slammed his door shut. “Don’t even go there, Dean.”

“Boys, boys! There is no need to fight over me.”

Dean’s annoyance faded as he turned to face Pamela. He quickly wondered if part of being psychic meant that you don’t age, because she didn’t look a day older from the last time he was with her a few years ago. Well, there was one difference.

“That glaucoma still being a little bitch?” Dean asked as he walked forward to pull her into a hug.

Pamela embraced him back and grinned into his collarbone. “Like ever. The doc says that I’ve got a couple of years in me until it takes away my eyesight completely, so we’re taking extra precautions,” she said as she pointed to her sunglasses. “I don’t think that this will help at all, but my doc has always been a bit of an optimist. Besides,” Pam said with a grin, “I don’t need to be able to see to know that Cas hasn’t even said hi to me yet. Come here, boy!”

Dean glanced over at Cas as he trudged forward and threw his arms around Pamela. The hug was awkward at best and Dean almost felt sorry for Cas…almost. He was still annoyed that Cas had a prejudice against one of his dad’s closest and oldest friends.

“Cas, be a doll and bring your guys’s bags into the house. I’ve gotta talk to Dean alone for a minute.”

Cas was only too happy to oblige, and left with his and Dean’s duffles on his shoulder. When he was out of eyesight, Pamela led Dean over to the tiny hut that was built outside of her house and gestured to walk inside.

“Did you steal all of this from a costume shop?” Dean asked as he glanced around the room. Twinkle lights and tarot cards lined the walls, and a smoke machine was starting to billow from the corner. Purple fabric was draped across the ceiling, and the infamous crystal ball was in its place in the middle of the wooden table.

Pamela walked over to the corner where her costume was and put it over her clothes. “Half of the reason people come is for the show I put on. Obviously I don’t need this to find my premonitions, but Madame Pamela does. Trust me, Dean. If I just read people’s palms in a bare room I wouldn’t get any business at all.”

“Fair enough,” Dean replied as he took a seat on the cushioned chair. “Why did you need to talk with me alone? Cas wouldn’t mind.”

“Your friend is afraid of me,” Pamela said as she threw on the last of her robes. “And he’s going to try to get you out of here as fast as possible.”

Dean glared at the floor and scowled. “That bastard.”

“He grew up religious, it’s to be expected,” Pamela said as she took a seat across from Dean. “Don’t be too annoyed with him. That’s not why I called you in here though. I…had a premonition about you before you came.”

He felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rise. “What?”

Pamela reached across the table and grabbed Dean’s hands. “I saw you and Cas in Las Vegas. You’re planning to go there, right?”

“Yeah…why?”

“I saw a fight between you two. A big one that could separate you two for a long time.”

Dean’s mind raced as he tried to come up with the words. “Ah…uh…”

“What was it about?” Pamela interrupted. “Well, I don’t want to give it all away, but let’s just say that it was about a certain relationship.”

He felt his face blush red. “Pamela, please just tell me that Cas doesn’t find out that I uh…”

“Have a big crush on him?” Pamela finished again with a grin. “Hon, I’m not gonna give you the details, but it isn’t exactly about that.”

Dean glared back at her from across the table. “How did you know that I have a crush on Cas?”

She laughed and let go of his hands. “Honey, I don’t need to be a psychic to see the way you look at that boy. Remember Sam’s eighth grade graduation party? Your daddy was talkin’ shit about something or another…I don’t know what, but it brought Cas down quite a bit, and you spent the rest of the night trying to make him feel better. You were looking at him like he put the stars in the damn sky, and I’ve never seen you like that with anyone else before.” She paused, then got up from her chair. “You love that boy, don’t you?”

Dean felt his whole body tense at the words. Love? He wasn’t in love with Cas; it was just a stupid, totally innocent crush that would go away eventually. _It needs to go away_ , his mind reminded him, and once again he remembered his father’s long lectures about “being a man” after his incident with Alistair. _I can’t love Cas. It’s wrong._

“I don’t love Cas,” Dean growled as he got up from the chair and walked towards the exit. “It’s just a dumb crush. It’ll go away.”

“No, I don’t think it will,” he heard Pamela say as he left, but he didn’t turn back.  

* * *

_Present Day_

“Dean, I’ve got to ask…did my prediction from all those years ago come true?”

He turned to look at Pamela as they walked out of the hospital together. After he woke up for the second time, they allowed him to stay lucid and cleared him the next day. Pamela stuck around the area, and now they were planning to grab coffee at Tethers Brew across the street while Cas was getting cleared.

“Don’t go there, Pam,” Dean warned as he picked up his pace. This wasn’t the type of conversation he wanted to have. “We’re trying to put it in the past.”

“Then I was right?” Pamela said with a grin on her face as she ran to catch up. “Hey! Don’t be a baby about it, Dean. I’ve got a gift after all.”

“Yeah, you were right. We fought, didn’t talk for eighteen years, and now we’re braid-your-hair-besties again, just like you predicted. You happy now?”

“Thrilled.”

Dean just rolled his eyes at her and opened the door to the coffee shop, breathing in the comforting smell of vanilla and…was that apple pie he spied in the front row of pastries? His mood brightened greatly when he went up to the front desk and let Pam order them both cups of coffee and two pieces of pie, and he was so caught up that he didn’t even realize that she never asked him what he wanted.

“This is heaven,” Dean practically moaned as he took his first bite. He let his tongue curl around the crumbly pastry and he didn’t even care about the stares he was getting from the other customers.

“Put your sex face away, Winchester. I didn’t pay thousands of dollars in eye surgery just to watch you get it up over a baked good.”

Dean grinned and put the fork down. Better to save it for later anyway. “How’s that goin’ by the way?” Dean asked. “Last time I heard your sight was a goner; what changed?”

Pamela laced her fingers together and leaned down on her hands. “Modern technology, that’s what. Doctors thought that I’d lose it all for sure, but then through a bunch of expensive and slightly reconstructive procedures they were able to slow it down to a snail’s pace. Sure, I can’t see out of my peripherals anymore, but I still got enough juice left to stare at that pretty little face of yours all day.”

He leaned back in his chair as he gestured to himself. “You can’t just get with this for free, Pammy. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Pam grinned and took the last bite of her pie. “You’re half my age, boy. I know better than to go after the young ones. Besides, rumor around the hospital is that you’re pretty close with your blue-eyed Casanova.”

Dean felt his cheeks turn vermillion. “We’re not-“

“But you wish you were. You just can’t find the balls to tell him.”

He remained silent and took a sip of his coffee instead, which was enough of a confirmation for Pam. She began humming to herself as she looked down at her nails, examining them in the sunlight.

“If you’re not gonna rebuttal, I’m just gonna assume I’m right,” she said after a few minutes of awkward silence.

Dean heaved out a sigh as he chugged the last dregs of his coffee. “I don’t understand it,” he admitted. “I’ve never really been into guys. Sure, I’d see a good looking one here and there and I’d admire the view, but I never acted on it. Ever. But with Cas…it’s…I dunno…different? When I’m with him, I just wanna listen to everything he has to say, y’know? And I wanna take him out on dates and be his freakin’ boyfriend and kiss him and everything, but I’ve never had these feelings about anyone before. Not with Robin, even though I said I did. Not with any of my other exes, either. I mean, even back in the day I knew something was up between us, and it scared the hell outta me. That’s why I completely turned on him in Vegas. I guess I couldn’t handle the feelings and not being who my dad wanted me to be, y’know?”

Pamela nodded like she understood and then reached across the table to take his hands. His mind flashed back to a similar stance all those years ago, and he could only hope that Pamela didn’t have another “feeling” about him and Cas.

“Dean…let me tell you somethin’. Sexuality is one confusing animal. Hell, I’m twice your age and I still don’t know what to call myself! I’ve tried on all the labels and nothing ever felt right, so after awhile I just gave up on trying to fit into a mold. Sure, I like getting down and dirty with men 90 percent of the time, but sometimes I like the sweet curves of a lady, or there could be years where I don’t want the sweet lovin’ of anyone. You like women 99.9% of the time, but there’s this one guy who just gets you and that’s okay too. Don’t run away from Cas just because you don’t get it right now; maybe it’ll all come forward in time, or maybe it never will. That don’t mean that you should give up on something that could be the best thing you’ve ever had.”

He tried to break away from her gaze, but Pamela was having none of it. She let go of his hands to grab his face instead, and he groaned when she began shaking him.

“Pamela…” he complained.

“I don’t want to hear it!” she said as let go. “If you’ve got feelings for Cas, you need to tell him. You’ll kick yourself forever if you don’t.” Pamela let him go as she looked down at the table. “I just don’t want you missin’ out on something amazing just because you’re still trying to please your daddy. He was right about a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. Don’t let his own prejudices get in the way of your happiness.”

Dean looked away as Pamela tried to catch his eye again. He knew that was her trick, the thing that’d give her insights into thoughts and fears and futures, and for once in his life he didn’t want Pamela giving him the advanced reader’s copy of the book called life.

“I won’t tell you what I saw last night if you don’t want,” Pamela said as she got up from her chair, “but I’ll tell ya, it was good.”

Dean got up too and led the way out of the coffee shop. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll figure this one out for myself.”

Pamela nodded as they trudged across the street and back into the cool, stagnant air of the hospital. “Fair enough, but can I at least tell you one little, tiny detail?”

He turned to her and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

She pulled out a thousand watt smile. “You’re gonna be doing a lot of baking while you’re here.”

* * *

Pamela wasn’t joking around. According to her, nobody believed in psychics anymore in this “enlightened, boring stick in the mud, day and age,” so she expanded her former wooden hut into a bakery. Psychic Treats was a hit with the locals, but with the business boom she was short handed.

“What else are you gonna do with no car?” Pamela reminded them when both he and Cas protested. “You’re stuck with me until Andrew can get that pretty little Impala fixed up, and I know at least you can bake, Dean. I babysat you and Sam as kids, remember?”

Dean wished he couldn't, because Pamela’s version of “babysitting” back in the day was kinda terrifying. Unlike normal babysitters who kept a careful eye on children, Pam was more accustomed to letting the boys run around while she talked on the phone for hours on end, and he didn’t think that his dad ever forgave her for the time she fell asleep on the job and he almost set the house on fire. It was always a zoo when she was in charge, and Dean ended up doing more watching than she did.

Even though she was a crappy babysitter, she always was a phenomenal baker. Pies, cookies, cakes, you name it and Pam could bake it. When Dean was finally old enough (and wise enough to not run around the house with lit matches), Pam turned him into her protege. Under her, Dean became quite the expert in the baking world.

“We’re making cookies today, boys. Just your old fashioned peanut butter, nothing fancy. There is one tiny little detail though…” Pamela trailed off as she began pulling out way more butter than you could possibly ever need for a batch, “I kinda need three hundred of them by tonight. Have fun!”

And then with a little wave, Pam dropped the butter on the table and ran out of the room before Dean and Cas could eat her alive.

“Three hundred?!” Dean roared after her, but Pamela was already gone. Dean huffed out an annoyed breath and then ran a hand over his face. “How the hell are we going to make three hundred cookies?”

Cas poked his finger at the mixer like it had personally offended him and picked up the recipe card from the table. “I guess we just start then. I’ve never baked before, though.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Never?”

Cas nodded. “When would I? When I was at home, my mother or Robin were the cooks. My father and I weren’t even allowed in the kitchen because of my mother’s archaic thoughts on gender roles. And then when I went to Yale, it was all cafeteria food all the time. It’s very rare that I eat anything that can’t be microwaved.”

“Well, you can’t be that bad, right? Anybody can bake if they try.”

Dean ate his words fifteen minutes later. Cas was terrible. In his thirty-six years of existence, he’d never seen anyone as bad as Cas. The man didn’t even remove the paper covering on the butter before he tossed it into the bowl, and then when it came time to pour in the sugar, he grabbed a literal cup from the drying rack instead of using a measuring one. He was hopeless at it, and it was a miracle that Dean managed to get him through the first batch.

“No Cas, you can’t just throw them on the cookie sheet! There’s a way to do it-“

His voice caught into a giggle of laughter when Cas turned towards him with a big streak of flour across his face.

“Uh dude, I think you've been marked.”

Cas blinked up at him. “What?”

“You’ve got a little…” Dean waved his hand in front of his face and motioned towards his nose. When Cas stared back at him, Dean just sighed and reached over to brush the excess flour off of his face.

“You…uh…had a little something on your face there,” Dean explained as he leaned back on his heels and tried to look anywhere other than Cas.

The puff of flour that came out of nowhere and hit him in the face threw him off. When he blinked the dust out of his eyes, a sheepish looking Cas was grinning at him with a bowl of flour in his hands.

“Now you do too,” he said as he put the bowl down and turned back to the cookies.

But Dean wasn’t about to let that go. “Oh yeah?”

He picked up a handful of flour and tossed it at Cas’s back. “Now you match.”

Cas turned around and threw him a wicked grin. “You want war, Winchester?” He reached over and wiped the flour on his hands on Dean’s jacket. “You’ve got it.”

Needless to say, the rest of the afternoon was not filled with a lot of baking. The war that emerged was ruthless, and neither Cas nor Dean were letting the other win. Dean would dive to the floor when Cas tried to get a hit in, and then Cas would follow suit by ducking away from Dean’s throws. The kitchen looked more like a winter wonderland than a high class cooking establishment by the time night rolled around, and it was only when Pam came bustling into the kitchen that Dean realized only ninety cookies got baked out of Pam’s needed three hundred.

“What the hell?” Pam yelled as she took in the scene. “Guys, you had one job! One! And this is what you did all afternoon?”

Cas and Dean came to a halt in their wrestling match at Pam’s shout. With an embarrassed grin, Cas climbed off of Dean and tried to brush the white dust off of his clothes.

“Uh…we got a little bit distracted…” Cas explained as he walked over to the cooling rack, “but we at least got these done!”

Pamela ran her fingers through her hair. “I should’ve expected as much. I mean, if a guy admits that he loves ya, it’s gotta be a big deal. At least it’s not _that_ type of white gunk on my floor.”

Dean didn’t realize what Pam said at first, but once it did hit him he immediately staggered backwards. _Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no._

Cas tilted his head and threw Pam a confused look. “Love? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing!” Dean yelped as he trudged over to the door. “Pamela just meant…uh…”

“That…that!” Pamela said as she threw Cas a fake but gleaming smile, “Andrew admitted that he loves Dean and now he’s all happy, isn't that right?”

Dean’s groaned at Pam’s lame excuse, but it’s the only thing he had to go on right then. “Uh, she’s right! Andrew cornered me before we came in here and admitted to loving me all these years and uh…I had to turn him down and now I’m…uh…

“Dean’s glad that the air is all clear between them!” Pam chimed in again. “So clearly, everything is fine, right?”

He knew that Cas didn’t buy this at all, but for a minute he tried to ignore that. “Yeah, right!”

“Dean…what is going on?” Cas asked, but Dean just pushed open the door and walked into the night.

“It’s nothing, Cas! Really!” he called, and with his heart beating like a drum in his chest, Dean walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

_Present Day_

Cas was confused for the rest of the week at Pamela’s. It took about five days to get the Impala fixed and an extra two to get back on the road. Apparently Pamela was running a bake sale for the local school and needed all the help she could get, thus Dean and Cas spent their time rolling balls of dough and ultimately avoiding the other’s presence as best as they could.

All he wanted was to talk to Dean about what happened. His little story was absolute bull, Cas recognized that. Andrew hadn’t even talked to them since they arrived, and he wondered if the mechanic Pamela spoke of was even a real person. If it weren’t for her daily updates about the state of Dean’s car, Cas would’ve had his doubts. But Dean was not having it at all. He’d made an effort to dodge Cas at every opportunity. If Cas was in the kitchen, then Dean was in the den. If Cas was on the back porch, then Dean was out in the bakery. Even if they went past one another in the hallway, Dean would try to avoid eye contact and speed up his pace.

It was ridiculous, and he didn’t know how the rest of this trip would go if Dean was going to act like he was a total stranger.

Finally, Cas couldn’t let it slide anymore. He was packing up his bag when he glanced over and saw Dean walking through the hallway at a rather quick pace. He knew that if they got back into their car without a resolution, it’d be one quiet trip to Vegas.

“Dean!” Cas called as he watched the man turn the corner. “I need to talk to you!”

Luck won out and Cas sighed in relief when Dean poked his head around the wall.

“Yeah?” he said gruffly as he rolled up his jacket sleeves. “What’s up, Cas?”

“We need to talk about last week,” he said.

Dean curled in on himself and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “There’s nothing to talk about-“

“Oh, but there is!” Cas interrupted, and then walked forward to get closer to Dean. “Your story does not hold a lick of logic and I’m not going to take it. I’m your friend, Dean. I’m owed better than that.”

Dean curled his fingers into his palms and eyed the hallway. “Okay,” he whispered, “but not here. Follow me.”

Cas nodded and followed Dean through the maze of hallways in Pamela’s vast estate. After zigzagging through several parts of the house, Dean led Cas to the large library next to the garage. He opened the door and gestured for Cas to walk through.

The inside was exactly as he remembered it from his childhood. Pamela still had the towering, oak bookcases that filled up every wall with ancient texts on mythology and psychic lore. The long, glass table that Pamela got from a handy ex-boyfriend was still standing in the middle of the room, and his favorite reading nook with the worn out pillows was still tucked away in the corner, next to her various piles of ancient maps.

“Do you want to-“

“I don’t do feelings, Cas.”

And that wasn’t what Cas expected when Dean closed the door and threw him a pleading look.

Cas walked over to the ornate chairs behind the table and took a seat. “Dean, I’ve known you a long time now. That’s practically part of the Dean Winchester Guide for Dummies. What else is new?”

Dean began pacing the length of the floor and actually growled to the ground. “I know, and that’s why everythin’ is so damn confusing! I don’t know what I’m feeling, Cas. I just don’t, and I don’t know if I can ever figure it out, y’know?”

Cas got up from his chair and walked over to Dean. “Whoa, calm down,” he said as he laid a hand on Dean’s tricep. “What happened at the bakery? What did Pamela mean? That…wasn’t about Andrew, was it?”

Dean’s eyes flitted to the ground again. “No, it wasn’t,” he whispered.

“Then who was it about?” he whispered back, but he wondered if he really wanted to know the answer.

Dean’s eyes flicked up to his. “You.”

That single word threw a ripple through Cas’s body and he fell backwards a bit, his hands landing on the glass table to catch his fall. “Excuse me?” he managed to get out, but Dean was already pulling back into himself, closing down the floodgate that was about to pour out.

“It’s nothing, man. Really-“

“No, don’t you go and shut down on me. I need answers. I think I deserve that.”

“And that’s why I’m not good for you, Cas! I can’t give you answers. What I’m feelin’ is completely new and I don’t know what to do with it, okay? You need someone who isn’t a complete mess with who he is.”

Cas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Dean was the mess? He couldn’t let Dean believe that, not when the man he was standing in front of was the biggest laughing stock of the law world. No, Dean needed to hear the truth about his not-so-fabulous career life.

“Trust me, Dean, you’re not the messed up one between the pair of us. I’ve been putting off telling you the full extent of why I’m here because, well, I’m embarrassed. I’m not who you think I am.”

Dean laughed humorlessly and threw his head back. “You? The mess? How the hell are you the mess?”

Cas gestured for Dean to follow him further back into the library. If he was going to tell this story, he wanted to be on familiar ground. And when the beanbag chairs that him and Dean fought over back in 97’ came into view, he plopped down in the one Dean usually claimed for himself and threw a sly grin up at the other man.

“Oh yeah, you think you’re cute, don’t ya?” he grumbled as he took the blue one next to Cas.

“I know I am, but that’s not the point,” Cas replied as he began rubbing his fingers over the fabric. “The point is that I’m not some big lawyer like you think I am.”

He could feel the air in the room change when Dean took in that information. “Then what are you?” he asked bluntly. “Are you a lawyer at all?”

“Not anymore,” he replied. He glued his eyes onto Dean’s confused glance. “A few months ago, I got into shit with my firm. I was doing well, on the way to becoming one of the best, but I made a mistake. A big one. My company was going up against the Roman Corporation, a truly vile group who distributes food that barely is safe enough to pass FDA standards. Our firm was representing Big Foods, you know, that chain with the annoying commercials? Anyway, they’re the biggest buyer of the Roman Corporation’s products, and they were getting tons of complaints that the food distributed by them was causing lethargy and unusual skin irritation. They lost a ton of money and were suing the Corporation for fifteen million dollars.

“Well, I was assigned to the case early on. I was supposed to find a lead and go up against their lawyers in court. And I thought I had a great lead about their company too, one that would seal our case. Others offered to work on the case with me, but I refused. I got cocky, Dean. I thought I was too good for other lawyers and thought I could play god and handle this on my own.

“Well, I couldn’t. I got to court and the Corporation lawyers knew my every argument before I could even speak it. I was at a loss, and because of that Big Foods lost the case. They didn’t get any money, our firm was disgraced, and I was fired. Nobody will ever take me back now. You can’t mess up that badly and be respected as a lawyer. And that’s why I came to you. I literally lost everything to my name, Dean. My car, my apartments, my well-being. I’m getting through this trip on my trust fund, and hell, before I thought of coming to you I was living on Robin’s couch, bemoaning my life. She’s the one that even suggested that I look you up, and that’s why I’m on this trip. I needed a friend, Dean. I needed you, and I still do. Don’t talk about being messed up, because I was there long ago.”

He leaned back into the chair and looked over at Dean’s expression. It was filled with confusion, for one, and a bit of pity, too.

“Well, aren’t we quite the pair, then?” he said after a long time of awkward, building silence. “A botched lawyer and a dumbass in…possible love.”

Cas laughed and, cautiously, leaned over and laid a hand on Dean’s knee. “I prefer dumbasses in love.

He felt the blush rise to his cheeks when Dean’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’re in love with me?”

He grinned at Dean. “Really. And it’s not new, either.”

Dean let the words rush over him and he ran a hand over his face again. “All this time?”

“Yes,” Cas whispered.

“…Wow,” was Dean’s brilliantly thought out response, and he couldn’t help but laugh at where they ended up. Years of built up feelings, ones Cas always assumed would be unrequited, were actually requited after all. “This is happening really fast,” Dean admitted as he carded through his hair. “I…don’t know if I’m ready for all this.”

He felt his gut fall a little bit, but he knew it was expected. “It’s okay, Dean, really. We…don’t need to change anything about us. We’ll make it up as we go, okay?”

Dean grinned at Cas. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you, Cas. But enough of this feelings talk. Now, you up for Vegas?

Cas laughed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

_ July 21st, 1997 _

Pamela’s place was not as bad as Cas was expecting. While he did find her visions unsettling, she tried her best to keep them to herself, for the most part. There were times though when she just couldn’t help herself, and she’d come up behind him and whisper one little tidbit in his ear, just enough to get him riled up. It would be incredibly annoying if she weren’t such a great cook. Cas had fallen in love with her pies during their week at the ranch, and he even suggested that she open a bakery if the psychic thing didn’t pan out.

However, all good things have to come to an end. After a week binging on Pam’s flawless pastries, Dean pointed out that they needed to get back to Lawrence in this century… or before Robin stopped believing his ridiculous excuses for not calling her. So the boys packed up their things and got back on the road, heading out towards the lights of Vegas. Everything was perfect. Dean was punching the Impala to its top speed on the road, the windows were down, and even the old rock wasn’t annoying Cas like it usually did. Everything was good…well…almost.

“Vegas, baby!” Dean yelled out the window for the thousandth time that day. Cas was just rolling his eyes in the passenger seat.

“Will you quit it?” he groaned as Dean leaned back into the safety of the car. “I think anyone in a fifteen mile radius knows we’re going to Vegas now.”

“Aw, lighten up, Cas! It’s Vegas! Is it wrong that I’m excited?” Dean asked.

Cas huffed out a breath and kicked his feet up on the dashboard. “You could tone it down a bit, that’s all.”

Dean crossed the little space between them and knocked his hand against Cas’s leg. “You’re all tense. We really need to find a girl you like, y’know? Someone to warm your bed for a night? If you can’t find one in Vegas, where are you gonna find one, am I right?”

Cas tensed up next to him and didn’t answer. Did he just not see the obvious? Any girl that Dean brought around was automatically rejected by Cas. Most of the time he didn’t even give a reason, just told the girl that he wasn’t interested and sent her on her way. Of course it was annoying Dean to no end; he’d always demand an explanation, but Cas always avoided it. Wasn’t it obvious enough that Cas just wasn’t into girls? Or was Dean too set in his father’s ways to even fathom the idea that his best friend could be gay?

He considered just coming out and telling Dean that he wasn’t interested in any girl, but there was still a bit of fear that held him back. He could only think the best of Dean, but what if he did take on his father’s bigotry? What if he thought Cas was disgusting? Wrong? He didn’t think that he could hear those words come out of the boy that he’d trusted for years upon years, the boy who he was probably in love with, the boy who would never feel the same way.

Instead, Cas replied, “Yeah, right,” and gazed out the window as the night passed them by.

They remained quiet for a long time, but eventually Dean’s yawns were hard to ignore. They looked for a place to stay the night, but only the deserted desert was around them, and the nearest motel wasn’t for another fifty or so miles. When it looked like neither of them would be able to stay alert enough to drive for that long, Dean pulled off into the sandy terrain and parked the Impala under the bright, cloudless night sky.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as Dean climbed out of the car and jumped onto the hood of the Impala.

“What does it look like? I’m stargazing, Cas! We’ve got nowhere to go, so get up here and spout out all those star facts I know you’ve got logged in that big head of yours.”

Cas didn’t know if it was a great idea to spend the night in the middle of nowhere, but he ignored the possibilities of getting eaten by a wild animal and got out of the Impala to join Dean on the hood. When he laid back against the cool metal, his eyes immediately flicked up to the twinkling, bright light of the stars. His gaze traced Lyra, then Aquila, and then found his favorite, Hercules. He paid little attention to how his body turned when his eyes tried to trace out the constellations, and soon enough he was facing Dean instead of the sky.

“Well? What’s up there? I’ve got the Big Dipper but that’s about it,” Dean said as he looked over at Cas.

He pointed up at Aquila and traced out the pattern. “See that grouping to the north? That’s Aquila, the celestial eagle. The Greeks believed that Aquila was the official lightning bolt guardian for Zeus, and also went out on important errands for him. He also could’ve been the eagle that ate the liver of Prometheus.”

Dean’s eyebrows came together as he tried to follow Cas’s finger. “I don’t see it.”

Cas pointed to it again. “See that bright one in the middle? That’s called Altair. If you follow the pattern, it kinda looks like a parallelogram with a tail.”

When Dean just glared at the sky, Cas sighed and reached over for Dean’s hand. The contact between them sent a shiver up Cas’s spine as he guided Dean’s finger up to the star. “Altair, then connect it to those three stars, and then bring it down. You see it?”

“Oh, there it is,” Dean replied in understanding as his eyes traced the constellation. “What other ones are there?”

Cas grinned as he brought Dean’s hand over to the east side of the sky. “That’s Hercules,” he noted as he traced the pattern. “Robin told me the story of Hercules when we were kids and we used to run outside to see if we could find it. It’s hard to pick out, though. Summer is the only time when it is really visible, like tonight.”

“Wow,” Dean whistled as his eyes traced the constellation. “That’s incredible. Any others that we can see?”

“Well, there’s the North Star…”

Cas didn’t know exactly how long he went on for. All he noticed was that when he finally stopped talking about the various star signs and where they would be in the sky, the twinkling lights were a lot less vibrant than when he began, and he thought he could make out the first rays of sunrise on the bank. It all felt natural, laying there under the stars with Dean. He’d dozed off a few times, but would always pop back up when Cas nudged him with his foot. He would hold rapt attention for another few minutes before his eyes began to close again. After about the fifth time of this, Cas just let him fall asleep against the Impala, and he quieted his voice as he leaned down next to him and curled up into the cold metal. He let his eyes close too, and soon enough Cas was fast asleep with Dean’s body pressed close behind him.

It was the best sleep he’d gotten on the entire trip.

When the morning rose though, things broke apart quickly. He opened his eyes as the sun began to shine in them, and with a start he remembered where he was. Cas rolled over and found Dean asleep. Dean’s arms were curled up by his face and his feet were pushed up against Cas’s leg. They were centimeters apart, and if Cas just leaned in a little bit he could probably brush his lips against Dean’s…

“No,” Cas whispered to himself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Huh?” Dean groaned when Cas’s voice interrupted the quiet. He opened his eyes and then jumped back when he found out how close he was to Cas’s face. “Agh!”

“Good morning to you too,” Cas said.

“Why were you up in my face?” Dean asked, and then climbed off the Impala to grab a water bottle from the back seat. “Personal space, Cas. It’s a thing.”

“Apologies,” Cas said when Dean appeared again. “We just fell asleep that way, I guess.”

“Let’s not let that happen again. I don’t need you up my ass.”

“Did you just tell me to get out of your ass?” Cas asked as he let out a giggle. “That’s rich.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Dean called when he climbed back into the front seat. “Now get in before I leave you behind. We’ve got a lot of road to cover if we’re gonna make it to Vegas.”

“Okay, I’ll get back in your ass,” Cas said as he rolled his eyes, and then got down from the Impala’s hood and fell back into the passenger seat. “If that’s what you really want.”

Dean threw him an annoyed glance. “You’re an idiot. Let’s go, asshole.”

“As you wish," Cas replied.

* * *

Vegas was brilliant. The lights that welcomed them were glowing brightly in the fading light of day. The casinos were roaring with tourists as Dean drove through the streets, and Cas just gazed up in wonder at the dazzling hotels and buildings around him. Everything was sparkling and waiting to be explored.

He was expecting for Dean to pull up to a dive motel on the outskirts of the city before they hit the Strip, but instead Dean put the car in park right in front of the Bellagio, of all places.

“Shouldn’t we find a place to spend the night first?” Cas asked. “It’s not like we can stay here.”

Dean’s eyes flicked over to his and he raised his eyebrows. “Yes, we can. Look at the letter, Cas. We’re gonna live like kings tonight.”

Confused, Cas pulled out the well worn envelope from the glovebox. When John’s sixth letter fell to the floor, Cas picked it up and let his eyes roam over the words he found there. It was filled with the usual: John loves Dean, hopes that he can prove that he’s a man, ect. But when he read the part about how John snuck into a casino when he was eighteen and won a thousand dollars in poker, Cas just dropped the piece of paper like it burned him.

“No, absolutely not,” Cas said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve done a lot of weird things on this trip with you, Dean, but I’m not going to sneak into a hotel casino!”

“What did you think we’d be doing in Vegas, Cas? Going to diners and playing it safe? No, that’s not what this part is about. You’re just gonna need to learn to live a little. I’ve already got the fake IDs ready, see?” Dean pulled out two pieces of plastic from the glove department and threw one on Cas’s leg. “Ash got ‘em when we were there.”

Cas picked it up and snorted at the name. “Really? John Denver? Who is going to believe that?”

“They’re looking for birthdates, Cas, not names. We’ll be fine,” Dean assured him, but Cas didn’t buy it.

“Oh yeah? They’re just going to let in John Denver and Robert Plant? Really, Dean?”

Dean glared at Cas and then put it back in the glovebox. “Don’t knock the fake name until you try it, Cas. People are dumber on their music knowledge than you’d like to believe.”

Cas threw the ID on the dashboard and crossed his arms. “I still think this is a bad idea and I’m not going to use a fake ID. If you want to spend the night behind the Bellagio bars until your mom can come bail you out, be my guest, but I’ll be staying here, thank you very much.”

Dean reached behind the seat and pulled out his duffle bag. “Nope. You don’t get a say in this. We’re partners in organized crime, remember? Batman and Arrow?”

Cas groaned. When they were kids, he and Dean made a pact. They wanted to be Batman and the Arrow when they grew up, and together they vowed that when an opportunity came up to live out their vigilante lives, they’d be there to support one another.

_Well, crap._

“Do you promise that this will never get to Yale?” Cas asked.

“Promise. Your nerdy college friends will never hear about the time you broke into the most famous Vegas hotel and nailed a cute girl.”

 _There it was again with the girl_ s, Cas thought. At this rate he’d be better off dragging a guy back to their room while Dean was there, and even then the point probably wouldn’t get across.

But he didn’t get to disagree before Dean was pulling a suit out of his duffle bag and laying it out on the dashboard. It was wrinkly and smelled like old gym socks, and Cas just turned away from the stink.

“What is that? It smells like-”

“Authenticity,” Dean replied with a smile. “This was my old man’s back in the day. I took it from his closet after…y’know.”

Cas fell quiet and opened a window to let the smell out. “Okay, but did it come with the dirty gym socks perfume, or is that just Eau de Dean?”

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to do laundry back at Pam’s before we left. That reminds me, when you’re losing your virginity tonight I’ll need to use the laundry room.”

“Why are you convinced that I’ll sleep with someone tonight?” Cas groaned as he reached back to pull out his own duffle bag. He was glad that the suit he brought was carefully wrapped and folded at the bottom of his bag, and when he pulled it out it looked a lot nicer than Dean’s.

“Because it’s about time! Everyone else has done it, so why not you? You’re good enough looking…y’know..for a guy…” Dean muttered under his breath, “and you’re nice! What girl wouldn’t want that?”

Cas toyed with the edge of his t-shirt and tried to cover his uncertainty. “I’m not exactly what most girls are looking for,” he hedged, but Dean didn’t catch the bait…again.

“Sure you are, Cas! Just…keep an open mind about this? I don’t want you being all grumpy the entire night.”

“I’m never grumpy!” Cas defended.

Dean laughed. He put his odorous suit back in the bag and then pushed out of the car. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m not!” Cas argued back as he too shoved his folded suit back into the duffle and followed Dean’s lead. “I’m just tired in the mornings and I don’t like when you’re adamant on wailing off key to All Out of Love!”

Dean ignored him as they grabbed their bags and locked up the Impala. “Whatever you say, Chief.”

Cas started to argue, but his words were hushed when they walked into the grandiose building. Everything was beautiful. The golden floors gleamed back Dean and Cas’s reflections when they stared down into it, and it was only offset by the large carpet that took up the majority of the lobby. Above their heads, a vast crystal decoration lit up the space and reflected a rainbow of colors down at the guests below it, and the check in desk wound all the way to the back of the hotel.

Compared to the run down carpets and roach filled motels they’d been staying in, Cas felt like he’d ascended to another land. Asgard, maybe.

“Whoa,” Dean whistled below his breath, “this is fancy…and maybe not as easy as I once thought.”

Cas turned to glare at him. “Don’t talk like that. If we’re going through with this, then it is going to work. Batman could do it,” Cas teased.

Dean handed Cas’s duffle bag back over to him and nodded towards the bathrooms off the hallway. “Batman also was a master of disguise. We better suit up before we go in there. I want to look classy when I beat everyone’s ass at poker,” Dean whispered.

Cas rolled his eyes at Dean before walking in the direction of the bathroom. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet you are the one who agreed to spend a whole summer with me,” Dean teased. He bumped his arm against Cas’s.

Cas didn’t say anything back as they entered the bathroom. The boys split up and changed quickly, the sound of falling fabric the only noise in the room. When they were finished, Cas stepped out of the stall and was taken aback. Dean looked amazing. His father’s suit actually fit him quite well, only a little extra length in the arms giving away that it wasn’t his originally. The dark fabric contrasted with his green eyes, and once again Cas found himself trying to cover up the attraction he felt to his best friend.

“I look good, right?” Dean said slyly. “You can say it, Cas. I know I’m an attractive guy.”

“Full of yourself is more like it,” Cas teased back, glad that Dean didn’t notice his open gaping. “Now let’s get going.”

The two of them wandered out of the bathroom and back out to the Impala. After throwing their bags in the back and grabbing the fake IDs from the glove department, Dean guided Cas over to the first casino in the hotel. It was bouncing with activity, and a tough looking security guard was glaring at them from afar.

“IDs, boys?” he asked when they walked up to him.

Dean tossed his over with Cas’s and leaned back on his heels. “Any tricks to winning at poker...Victor?” Dean eyed the nametag on the man’s jacket and threw him a grin.

Victor tossed the IDs back at them and snorted. “No, because you’re not playing. I’ve been a bouncer for years, boys, and I know a fake when I see one. You guys probably aren’t even out of high school yet.”

“We just graduated,” Cas blurted out, and then brought his hands up to his mouth once he realized his mistake.

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean groaned under his breath. “Okay, you caught us. Can’t you just let us in? We won’t cause any trouble, promise.”

Victor eyed him up and down before grabbing both boys by the collars of their jackets and hauling them outside. “No can do, boys. There’s an eighteen and over club down the street. Check that out instead.”

Cas rubbed the back of his neck when Victor let him go, and then they both watched as the bouncer went back into the building.

“Well that was a bust. Thanks a lot, Cas.” Dean glared back at him.

“This is my fault how? You’re the one who thought it was a grand idea to use the names of famous artists as our fake names.”

Dean let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, no harm, no foul. Let’s just find another place to try.”

Cas agreed, then the two of them walked across the street to a casino that was bubbling with activity. A group of women in high heels nearly toppled into them as they walked by, and men twirling cigars lingered outside the building. The crowd looked older than Dean would’ve liked, but it was worth a shot.

This bouncer wasn’t like Victor. No, this woman was ten times more intimidating than the man back at the Bellagio. She was lean and had a no-nonsense attitude in her eyes, and Cas almost grabbed Dean’s arm to pull him away before they even tried to give her the fakes.

“IDs, boys.” She plucked both pieces of plastic from Dean’s fingers, then actually laughed when she read the names. “Nice try, boys, but you want to know a pro-tip? Don’t use celebrities. That’s amateur hour work.”

Dean blanched back at her like he was personally offended and grabbed the IDs back. “Hey lady, I’m not an amateur! I’ve gotten into plenty of over twenty-one clubs as Robert Plant!”

“Then you’re been incredibly lucky, but I’m not that dumb. Try again later, boys.”

Dean turned around and gestured for Cas to follow. “We’ll get into another casino. We just need to keep working at it.”

They didn’t get into a casino. Everywhere they went they were turned down, the majority of the bouncers just laughing at their sad excuse for fake IDs. They walked all up and down the strip, and Cas swore that by the time they got dragged away for the fifth time, Dean was going to finally call it quits and agree to just head on out to Los Angeles.

That was not the case.

“We’re gonna need to sneak in,” Dean whispered to Cas when they were turned away yet again.

Cas’s eyes widened. “No, that was not part of the plan! We’re going to get caught!”

“Lighten up, Cas! We’ll just go back to the Bellagio. There was a back entrance that waiters were going through. We could get in that way!”

He curled his fingers into his palms and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Like that would work. Do you not understand that the Bellagio is high class? I doubt they’d ignore two people popping into their break room.”

Dean threw his arm over Cas’s shoulders and nudged him forward. “C’mon, don’t be a downer. What’s worse? Getting caught or never trying in the first place?”

“Getting caught! Getting caught is worse!” Cas protested, but Dean just brought a finger up to his lips when he led them around the side of the building. As Dean noted, the door to the break room was propped open, and voices reverberated against the tiny alleyway from inside.

“...They’re expecting Mr. Wellington any second now,” Cas overheard a boyish voice say as Dean inched them closer to the door.

“Well, it is not my fault that he’s not on time! Tell Missouri that I’ll be out when my break is over,” a female voice countered back.

“I’m not going to tell her that, Krissy,” the boy said, and Cas felt Dean’s hand tighten on his bicep when footsteps began to ring out from behind the door. “I’m taking my break now and you can deal with Missouri when she eats you alive.”

“Cas...we better get out of here,” Dean whispered nervously, but the door flew open before they were able to take a step.

“…Castiel?”

He froze at the voice. No way. It was one that he hadn’t heard in years. The face gaping back at him belonged to his childhood crush, the boy who helped Cas realize that he was gay, the boy who was the epitome of all his fantasies and infatuations through high school before he realized his true feelings for Dean.

“…Alfie?”

* * *

_Present Day_

Vegas was just as beautiful as Cas remembered, if not more. The lights seemed brighter, the fountains flew higher, and the night was grander. Everything was glittering, and soon enough the infamous calls of ‘Vegas, baby!’ were being yelled out the window, just like old times. And when they pulled up to the Bellagio, Dean even joked that maybe Alfie was around so they could truly relive the old days.

“Dean, do you not remember how that turned out? I’m not going to track down Alfie and relive the worst night of our lives.”

Dean fell quiet at the memory, but shook it off quickly. “Fine, if you wanna be all domestic about it, then let’s go check in like a regular co-“

The breath whooshed out of his lips and Cas flicked his gaze over to Dean  faster than he thought possible. He was just frozen in place, his lips half formed around the words that never left his mouth.

“Let’s…just check in,” Cas said as he climbed out of the Impala.

Dean relaxed next to him and threw Cas a comforting glance, clearly glad that he didn’t comment on the almost use of the word ‘couple’.

While they made their way into the building with their luggage and walked up to the check in desk, Cas let his mind wander while Dean gave the receptionist their information. Ever since their conversation in Austin, Dean had been very careful with his words. Cas got it; besides Robin, Dean was new to the world of relationships that lasted beyond one night endeavours and clearly nothing about theirs was typical. Most people tend to go out and date for a few months before they, y’know, admit that they’re kinda in love with each other, but clearly that was not their case. Besides, Cas said that they’d take it slow. He didn’t try to make any moves on Dean or initiate physical contact; he left that up for Dean to decide.

It wasn’t all the same as before though. On the drive down, their once coy and hidden glances were out in the open for both of them to see. More than once, Cas caught Dean smiling at him from the corner of his eye, and for once he didn’t look away once Cas grinned back. When Cas turned the radio to a pop station, by some miracle Dean did not complain. And when they were almost at the border between Arizona and Nevada, Dean leaned over and put a cautious hand on Cas’s knee.

It was all very high school, but Cas didn’t mind. It was better than the sexual tension that was flickering through the car before, at least.

“All checked in! I just have one question for you though…”

Cas looked up from the ground and saw Dean holding up a keycard labeled ‘3605’.

He couldn’t believe it.

“…Did you request this room?” Cas asked.

“Nope. Guess it’s fate wanting to remind us of where we stayed last time.” Dean picked up his duffle from the floor and flung it over his right shoulder. “It’s funny, but is…it okay though? We could get a different room since that one doesn’t have the best history…”

The air of easiness he felt in the car left Cas like someone punched him in the gut. Suddenly Cas wasn’t looking at the lobby of the Bellagio anymore; he was flashing back to the night that him and Dean had their epic fight, one that happened right outside those hotel doors. He almost suggested that they get a different room, but instead Cas shook his head. No, running away from the problems of the past wasn’t going to do anything.

Cas leaned forward and bravely grabbed Dean’s wrist. “C’mon, Dean. Let’s go to that room and make a new history for it, okay?”

Dean’s body relaxed once Cas agreed, and then the two of them walked wrist in hand to the elevator. When it pinged and a group of tourists walked out, they clamored inside with a group of women wearing banners and crowns that said ‘Mrs. Lincoln 2k15.’

“Ooh, what do we have here ladies?” a brunette woman crooned as she took in Cas and Dean. “Two guys who wanna have fun perhaps?”

The rest of the girls turned towards them and broke out into a fit of giggles.

“They looked scared, ladies! Don’t freak out the good looking gentlemen,” a redhead whispered from the back.

Cas didn’t know what to do, but luckily Dean did. He jiggled his wrist and threw Cas a side glance, and he let go of his hand. He expected Dean to politely turn the girls down, but he did not expect for Dean to reach between them and entwine their fingers together, bringing them up for the crowd of women to see.

“Sorry ladies, but I’ve already got a date for tonight,” Dean said with a wink, and with a disappointed groan the women turned back to another topic of conversation before getting off a few floors later.

When the doors closed behind the women, Dean didn’t let his hand go.

It was the first time that Cas felt like despite everything, maybe this, them, was plausible.

The door pinged open on the thirty-sixth floor and they both walked hand in hand to the familiar room. It looked exactly the same from the outside, and they both nervously glanced at one another when Dean wedged the keycard into the lock and threw open the door.

It was quite different looking from last time, and for that Cas was grateful. The golden carpet had been replaced with a regal purple one, and the comforters were now in an iridescent, pearly white fabric. The pillow nests on both beds were still there though, and the rest of the furniture looked untouched since ’97.

“Digging the new executive look,” Dean said as he appraised the different features in the room.

“It’s nice,” Cas agreed as he threw his duffle down on the closest bed. “Do you have a bed preference?”

Dean shook his head and plopped down on the unoccupied one. “Whatever suits you best, Cas. I’m guessin’ we won’t be around here much anyway. We’re actually gonna explore the casinos this time, right? Now that I don’t got my head in my ass?”

Cas just answered by reaching into his bag and pulling out a nice shirt and a pair of slacks. “Why do you think I’m dressing up? Get changed, Winchester.” He threw Dean a mischievous glance. “It’s time to win some money.”

* * *

They didn’t win any money. They barely got past the first game of Texas Hold ‘Em without losing everything, and that was only because the players felt bad for them and let them take out their stake and try again. Dean claimed that he knew how to play, but once at the table it was like he forgot everything about the game. Cas just ran a hand over his face when he watched Dean fiddle with the cards and aimlessly push them together, trying to make any sense of the numbers before him. After they lost for the third time, Cas pulled an angry Dean away and directed them to the bar instead.

“They’re a bunch of freeloaders!” Dean called back at the group as Cas pushed him down onto a barstool.

“Will you shut up?” Cas growled under his breath, and then flagged down the bartender. “You’re lucky that we still even have money left. I thought you knew how to play!”

“I did…once…” Dean trailed off. “It’s been awhile, okay?”

Cas let out a snort and leaned his elbows on the bar. “Yeah, okay.”

“It’s true! Hey, can we get two whiskeys over here?” Dean called to the passing waitress. When she nodded in assent, he turned back to Cas. “I used to be epic at that game. Growing up with Uncle Bobby around? You basically had to learn if you wanted to stay at his house. Wish that I remembered how to play.”

The look of fondness on Dean’s face brought a smile to Cas’s. “He would’ve proud that you’re trying to keep up what he taught you.”

Dean let out a harsh laugh. “More like mocking me from the grave, probably. Wherever he is, he’s probably disgusted that I don’t remember a lick of strategy that he taught me and Sammy back in the day.”

Their whiskeys arrived then, and Dean brought his up in front of him.

“A toast, to a great night out,” Dean said and then leaned his glass forward to clink against Cas’s.

“Cheers,” Cas said back, and then let the liquid run down his throat. The sting brought quick tears to his eyes, and he ended up coughing over the bar as the alcohol went down.

“Whoa, easy there!” Dean called with his drink in hand. “You’ve gotta take it slow, Cas. We’re gonna be hammered in no time if you throw ‘em back like that.”

Cas blushed down at his drink. “Apologies.”

Dean patted him on the shoulder and then gestured for him to get up. “Let’s grab you another one and head out to the other tables. We’ll get drunk as we go along, right?”

He nodded and then looked out into the sea of games going on. “You’re right. I’ll find us a poker table while you grab us drinks. But…” Cas said as he turned around, a gleaming grin on his face, “You should know that I’m quite flirty when I’m drunk.”

Cas didn’t wait around to see Dean’s expression.

* * *

_July 21st, 1997_

You always remember the person who made you realize that you’re not exactly straight. For other queer men that Cas knew, that person was usually George Clooney or Tom Cruise, a celebrity that was way out of reach. For Cas though, it was Alfie Anderson.

Alfie was a family friend from their neighborhood. He was three years older than Cas and way out of his league. Blond, brilliant, and beautiful, Alfie had captured his affections the first time that Cas saw him perform the role of Danny Zuko in their high school’s performance of Grease. The minute that boy’s vocals filled the room with his version of Greased Lightning, Cas knew. It was like the light was flicked on in his head, and suddenly his infatuation with Brad Pitt instead of Jennifer Aniston made a whole lot of sense. (It also explained why even though he tried to fight it, he couldn’t get off to the porno magazines Dean was always pushing on him filled with naked women.)

From then on out, Cas admired Alfie from afar. He knew that he was unattainable; the guy wasn’t even gay after all, but Cas allowed himself to play the romantic and doodle ‘Cas Anderson’ in his journals during class. He imaged a life with Alfie in the city, away from the stifling, judgmental atmosphere of Lawrence. It was just a dream though, one that would never be fulfilled.

That is, until the day Alfie came out to the entire school by kissing his boyfriend, Michael Graceland, during lunch. From then on out, Cas made an effort to be Alfie’s friend. They began talking when Cas joined the drama club freshman year. Alfie admired his ability to pick up dialogue fast, and quickly promoted him to Assistant Club Leader. They worked together closely and often, coming up with new sketches to perform during assemblies and working out who would get what part in the fall play. Their camaraderie quickly flourished into something a little bit more than just friends, but it never went anywhere. Alfie was still with Michael, and Cas wasn’t about to get between them. And he was fine with them being just friends; they worked well together and eventually, Cas felt comfortable enough to tell Alfie that he was gay, too. That brought on a whole new level of friendship, filled with checking out the cute boys in the cafeteria to discussing the oppressive, judgmental city that they lived in. They both dreamed of leaving for more liberal places, but it all felt far off.

After Alfie graduated, Cas was sure that he would stick around. Where else would a guy who wasn’t going to college be? Lawrence was the breeding ground of those who wouldn’t and couldn’t go to college, the latter being Alfie’s case. But instead of getting a job at the Wiener Hut like everyone else, Alfie packed up his bags and left to live with his uncle in Vegas. That was three years ago, and now that Cas was looking at his face again, all of those ignored feelings rose back to the surface, filling him with that same vision of life with their dogs in a big city.

Well, shit.

“Uh…hey, Alfie!” Cas said awkwardly as he leaned back on his heels. “What are you doing here? It’s been awhile.”

Alfie was as adorable as Cas remember him. He blushed when Cas gazed into his eyes and he too began rocking back. “Uh, yeah. I’m a busboy at the casino and my uncle is one of the guitarists at the Cabaret Lounge. Y’know, it was really my only option after I left. My parents weren’t too pleased with the…uh…being gay thing. When I left, they kinda asked me to never come back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “That sucks.”

“It really does. I can only contact Raphael and Uriel on the holidays, and even then my parents don’t like it. Apparently they think I’m gonna try to turn them gay or something stupid like that. But it isn’t all that bad, though. You’d love it here, Castiel. Everyone is accepting and kind, and I don’t have to hide who I am, y’know?”

Cas wished that he could know, but he never had the experience that Alfie was talking about. He tried to think about what it would be like if everyone knew he was gay and accepted it, but it wasn’t a reality, not for Cas. He knew that when he came out one day his parents would throw a fit, and his reservations about Dean were still flickering at the back of his mind. The only person who probably would accept him was Robin.

“Achem,” Dean buzzed next to him, “am I chopped liver over here or what?”

“Oh, sorry...,” Alfie trailed off.

“Dean?” Dean filled in. “We went to the same school? I’m Cas’s best friend?”

Alfie’s face lit up with recognition. “Right! How could I forget about you, Dean? Cas talked about you all the time back in the day.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the boy in front of him. “Yeah, whatever. Look, you two need to catch up and I need to win a game of poker. Alf, you okay with me just...y’know...going through this door?” Dean asked with raised eyebrows.

Alfie shrugged. “It’s quiet in there, so I’m guessing there’s no one around. Be careful, though. If word gets around that I let you in Missouri will fire me on the spot.”

Dean winked back at them, then quietly walked through the door and left.

Alfie’s demeanour changed as soon as Dean was out of eyesight. He took a few steps closer to Cas and tentatively put a hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“Your friend is...nice,” Alfie said after a beat. “Will he be okay without us?”

Cas laughed humorlessly. “Please. Dean will find a group to play poker with and he’ll be set for the night. I doubt he’ll even notice that we’re gone after a while.”

Alfie grinned back at him and slowly, cautiously, began running his fingers up and down Cas’s arm. “That leaves you a free man, then. I don’t know if you would be interested, but I just got off my work shift. Do you want to grab a drink with me?”

Cas considered it. Would it be a good idea? Alfie was the one that got away, and he always wondered ‘what if’ about the boy with the blue eyes, but Cas was going off to Yale and Alfie was in Vegas. If anything did come up between them, if that old spark ignited once again, would he be able to just leave Alfie after a one night stand? He doubted it, but yet...Cas couldn’t turn down Alfie’s open and encouraging face.

“Okay,” he agreed after a few seconds. “As long as you don’t rat me out for using a fake ID.”

Alfie’s grin grew even wider and he brought his fingers away from Cas’s arm. “Your secret is safe with me, Castiel. And leave your wallet behind; tonight is completely on me.”

Cas glanced up at Alfie and shrugged. “As you wish.”

* * *

 

Alfie led him through the throngs of gamblers and partiers, trying his best not the step on any toes or lose Cas in the crowd of people. The casino was blaring with the dinging of machines and the groans of men who had lost at a poker table. Waiters and waitresses in tight, black attire flitted around with drinks over their heads and the music of Cher was pumping through the room, Cas even spotting a few people dancing in the nightclub that was attached to the casino.

Eventually, Alfie pulled Cas forward towards the bar and managed to get them some seats. After yelling out their order to the bartender, Alfie sat back on his bar stool and leaned his elbow on the bar.

“So what’s going on back at Lawrence? Anyone know about you yet?” he asked conversationally.

Cas’s gaze flitted over to the sound of a group cheering loudly, and then turned back to Alfie. “A lot of the same, actually. Everyone’s still judgmental as no other, my mother is a nut, Robin’s dating Dean, actually, and I’m still farther in the closet than the Queen when she’s trying to find a good pair of shoes.”

Alfie grinned up at him as two beers were placed before them. “And by queen you mean Britney, right?”

He missed Alfie.

Their conversation changed into more banter after that. They reminisced about the good ol’ days of drama club and Alfie asked for updates about everyone in the group. Cas obliged and drank any alcohol that came his way, and by the time his third beer rolled around, he was beginning to feel the effects of the drink on his body. He felt lighter and more confident, enough to ask Alfie the question that had been flickering in the back of his mind all night.

“But what about you? Any fun things going on here? Any…people?” Cas asked as he took another pull from the bottle.

“Wow, you get to the point fast,” Alfie muttered under his breath as he popped up the cap on his bottle. “No, I’m single. Ever since I left Lawrence, I’ve kinda been off my game. I was together with Michael for such a long time that after we broke up, I forgot how I got him in the first place. Besides…” his eyes closed as he pulled a drag, “I’ve kinda been waiting for someone to come back.”

Cas felt his gut fall a little bit. It wasn’t like he was expecting anything to happen with Alfie, but there was still a part of him that held on to those doodles.

“Yeah? And who’s that?” Cas asked out of politeness. He wasn’t positive that he wanted to know who was occupying Alfie’s affections.

“…You.”

The bottle that was halfway to Cas’s lips froze in place. He gently put it down and then turned his body towards Alfie’s. “…What?”

Alfie blushed and then pushed his beer away. “You were kinda the reason that Michael and I broke up. He felt like I was gonna cheat on him with you and he ended it right before I moved out here. Yeah, it wasn’t easy and I loved Michael once upon a time, but after awhile the flame dulled until it was barely there, y’know? You and me, Castiel, always clicked with one another, and I’m still kicking myself for not asking you out when I had the chance. But now you’re here and I don’t wanna let you go without doing…this.”

If Cas wasn’t flustered enough, Alfie’s sudden kiss pushed him over the edge. It was everything that he’d wanted ever since he heard him blast out the tunes of _Grease_. Alfie’s lips were careful and slow on his, waiting for Cas to move back before he pushed forward any more. They were soft and tasted like old beer, and with a confidence he didn’t know that he had, Cas pushed forward and connected them into one.

Alfie’s response was encouraging. Cas wasn’t an experienced kisser, his only one being with Meg Masters back in middle school, but from the way Alfie was breathing into his mouth and running his hand through Cas’s hair, he thought that he was doing fine.

And yet…he didn’t feel anything between them. There was no inferno, no fire, no desire looming underneath the fragile movements between them. Cas dipped his head further into Alfie’s space, trying to push out the lingering feelings he once had for the man in front of him, but nothing came of it. It was just alcohol soaked lips and nothing more.

It didn’t go on long before Cas gently pushed Alfie away from him. The other man leaned back and brought fingers up to his lips, his eyes blown wide and dripping with desire.

“…Wow,” Alfie said after a long time. “That was amazing.”

Cas just stared back at him. He thought that was amazing? Why? There was nothing there between them, and the fact that wasn’t obvious to Alfie made Cas a bit uneasy.

He didn’t get to dwell on it for long though before a loud uproar rose from the other side of the casino. Both Alfie and Cas turned their attention to the poker table that was causing the ruckus, and with a quick nod of affirmation, they both walked over to the commotion.

Cas couldn’t believe what he was looking at. After fighting their way through the group of onlookers, Cas found Dean with piles of chips before him. A few women stood around him, and one whispered in his ear as he was getting ready to take another turn. The other table onlookers became quiet as Dean perused the cards in front of him, and his fellow players groaned when he threw a few chips into the already large pile.

“C’mon, Winchester! Just give it up, already!” a man teased from across the table. Cas noticed that he was the only one who hadn’t folded besides Dean.

Dean flicked his gaze up from his cards to grin at the man. “No way, Gordon. I’m enjoying kicking your ass too much to just fold.”

Gordon actually growled, and then threw in another two chips. Both of them went back and forth for another few rounds before they finally decided to expose their cards.

“I won!” Dean yelled as he gestured to his royal flush, and the frustrated groans from the other players only confirmed it. Applause broke out from the onlookers and the dealer pushed the chips in Dean’s direction. It only added to the ones he’d won previously, and the looks of envy on the other player’s faces only made Dean more cocky.

“Yeah, cry about it, Gordon!” Dean called after the brash looking man who left the table. “Just walk it off!”

Cas reached forward and plucked a chip from the table. “Dean, when did you learn how to play like that?”

Dean fell silent as he twiddled his thumbs together. “Ah, actually...it was dad’s best game. Taught both Sammy and I everything I know about it.”

He nodded in understanding and then began calculating the chip values in his head. The number couldn’t possibly be right...could it?

“I’m up nine grand,” Dean beamed proudly as he fiddled with a chip. “Turns out if you put in the big bucks, you’ll get it back and then some if you’re good enough. We can stay at the Bellagio for days if we wanted, Cas! Imagine that! A pool that isn’t filled with green fungus? A room with two beds? Oh, and I can already imagine the water pressure,” Dean babbled.

Cas could imagine it. With the money that Dean won, they could spend a few days living the good life. Dean would probably get room service delivered, and Cas would want to get one of those fancy spa treatments Robin was always talking about.

“That would be wonderful,” Cas said a beat too late, because he was distracted by Alfie’s hand landing on his arm again. Dean noticed and threw him a weird glance.

“Well, then I better go book us a room, then. I’ll tell them to leave a key for you at the front desk, okay?” Dean said. When Cas nodded in assent, Dean got up from the table and knocked into Alfie as he walked by.

Cas didn’t think it was an accident.

“I don’t think Dean likes me that much,” Alfie said after Dean was out of earshot, and Cas just sighed.

“I don’t know what’s up with him,” he admitted.

Alfie turned Cas in his direction and laid another kiss on his lips. “Let’s not talk about him. Do you...wanna dance?”

Cas knew that leading Alfie on was wrong, but perhaps it was the alcohol or just the desire to get lost in another man for a night that made Cas hold his rejection. Instead of responding, Cas just grabbed Alfie’s hand and dragged him over to the nightclub with the others, falling into the easy twirling that was occurring.

The music was a techno tune that Cas didn’t know, but that did not stop him from dancing. Even though Cas was aware that he wasn’t great, he tried to move with the music anyway, twisting his hips to the tune of the song as best as he could. With Alfie’s body right up against his, they began to grind as Alfie leaned down to leave a line of kisses up his neck.

Again, Cas fought to find any kind of attraction in the feeling of fingers tracing patterns on his back but none came. Even when he brought his lips up to Alfie’s chin and left pecks there, there were no butterflies, no flames, no desire.

It became apparent very quickly that the reason he didn’t feel attracted to Alfie was because there was already another filling the spot. When he kissed Alfie, it wasn’t the man in front of him that he imagined. Instead of blue eyes, Cas imagined green ones. Instead of vibrant blond hair, Cas imagined dusty blond locks running through his hands. Instead of Alfie’s lips on his, he imagined Dean’s.

When he thought that he could imagine a life with Alfie, Dean’s face kept breaking into his old visions instead.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Alfie breathed into his neck once a new song began to play.

Despite all of the feelings raging inside, Cas almost said yes. He quickly wondered what it would be like to go upstairs to his hotel room, throw off his clothes, and revel in the touch of another man for a night. Sure, there was no fire between them, but would it be that bad? There was absolutely no shame in one and done hookups. Hell, he knew that Dean had done it tons of times before he began dating Robin. Maybe he could tap into that untouched lust looming, project in towards Alfie…

But in the end, he couldn’t. Alfie wasn’t Dean.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Cas trailed off as he pushed Alfie’s advances away from his body. “Look, you’re a nice guy and I want to feel something between us so badly, but it just isn’t there.”

Alfie backed off and frowned at Cas. “Is there someone else?”

Cas just glanced at the ground. “Yes, but he doesn’t know.”

A hand landed on his arm then, and Cas looked up into Alfie’s understanding eyes.

“Castiel, it’s okay. Really, it is. But…if you’ve got feelings for whoever you’re pining after, please tell them.”

Cas grunted out a harsh laugh and rolled his eyes. “Easier said than done. This guy…there’s a good chance that he won’t take it well.”

Alfie cocked an eyebrow and gestured for him to walk towards the bar. “And why not?”

Cas crossed his arms over his chest and let his eyes wander. “His father was very homophobic and I think that he picked up those traits. If I tell him…it will probably ruin our relationship forever. I don’t think I can go through that.”

Alfie leaned back against the bar. “Castiel, you can’t just assume that. If you are in love with this guy, then you’ve gotta tell him, no matter what. If it turns out bad, then fine. That’s how it goes. But what if it turns out good?”

Cas thought it over as more dinging from nearby machines filled his head. This entire trip he’d been avoiding telling Dean about his sexuality. Why? Why was he assuming that he’d take on John’s view? Looking back at how he interacted with Aaron, Cas swore there was something a little bit more than just platonic talking between the two of them. Why not go for it? Alfie had a point; the worst thing that could happen was getting a ‘no’ and being rejected, and if Dean really did have a problem with it, did Cas even want a person like that in his life anyway?

“You’re right…” Cas whispered to himself. “I’m gonna tell him. I’ve…gotta get out of here. It’s been nice running into you, Alfie. I…hope you find someone one day.

“Good luck, Castiel. Go get him. And…” he trailed off, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a flimsy business card. “If it doesn’t work out or you ever change your mind, I’ll be around.”

He accepted it and stored it away in his pocket, then began walking backwards out of the crowd. “I will, okay?”

And then Cas was running out of the casino at top speed.

He needed to get back to Dean.

He needed to tell him that he was in love with him.

* * *

The front desk was blissfully empty when Cas ran up to it, and it only took a few seconds for the woman to hand over Cas’s room key. The elevator was not as fast. Once Cas got on, it kept pausing at every floor as people piled on, and Cas didn’t care if he annoyed people with the tapping of his feet against the floor. He was too preoccupied with what he would tell Dean when he got to the room. What did you say to the guy you were in love with? Do you barge in there and go all 80s movie on him, declaring your love with a boombox or a lawn mower? Do you make a sweeping statement about your love and then carry the guy into the sunset? Do you just tell him that you love him and then leave awkwardly? How does one go about getting those three words out?

He didn’t have time to think because the elevator was pinging and a group of Asian brokers were waiting for him to get off. When he did, Cas just stood there by the elevator doors while he tried to calm his racing pulse.

 _It’s okay_ , he told himself. _Alfie is right. I’ve just gotta get the courage up and say it. It won’t be that big of a deal if he doesn’t accept it…right?_

He was going to lose his confidence if he waited around, so Cas jogged towards the room labeled ‘3605’ and opened the door.

What he found brought him to his knees.

A woman dressed in only lace panties was spread out on one of the golden comforter clad beds. Her legs were open wide with very little left to the imagination, and her fingers were drumming against her forearm.

“Well, well, well, what do we got here?” she purred seductively, and Cas felt the breath whoosh out of him when Dean walked out of their bathroom in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.  

“…Dean?” Cas whispered, because he didn’t know what else to say. “Who is this?”

Dean had the audacity to grin back at him as he gestured towards the woman. “Cas, I’d like you to meet Abaddon, the woman of the hour.”

“Only if the pay is right, love,” Abaddon said lowly, and then got up to peck a kiss on Dean’s cheek. “And I’m guessing that this is Cas?”

Cas couldn’t respond. It was like everything around him was crashing down. Dean went and got a hooker? Dean was cheating on Robin and didn’t think anything was wrong with that? It felt like a slap to the face, and Cas’s confusion quickly turned to frustration.  

“Dean...please get a pair of pants and come outside. I think we need to talk,” Cas said through clenched teeth, trying his best to not glance over at Abaddon.

“Uh…yeah…I’ll be right out,” Dean stammered, and Cas didn’t wait around any longer. He felt the utter confusion and hurt running underneath his skin like a complex web pattern of electricity. Everything felt like it would shock him if he touched it, therefore Cas ended up pacing back and forth as his mind tried to make sense of what it just saw.

It didn’t make any sense. Dean said that he loved Robin. Dean claimed that they were on good terms. Any time that they talked over the trip, it seemed like they were okay. Dean never talked about them having problems, or thinking about breaking up. Although he did notice that Dean hadn’t called Robin recently…

But no, Cas couldn’t even think about it. If they broke up, Dean would’ve told him. As far as he’s concerned, Dean was still a taken man. Where did he find this Abaddon anyway? Why would he go and hire a hooker when there were plenty of women down at the casino? He just didn’t get it.

When the door lightly creaked open and Dean walked out, he didn’t know where to begin. His friend looked ashamed and a redness was lighting up his cheeks.

“What the hell?” Cas yelled louder than he intended and Dean flinched.

“I can explain,” Dean got out, but Cas wasn’t about to let him talk yet.

“Explain what? How you cheated on Robin with a hooker? Or how you clearly want to be back in there with her instead of talking to me right now? Or how you probably thought that I’d never find out about it? That Robin would never find out about it?”

“Whoa...what are you talking about? I didn’t hook up with Abaddon!” Dean countered.

“Oh really? Then why in the world was she splayed out like you’d already done her? Why, Dean?”

Dean bit his lip as he glared at the ground. “You really think that I’d be the type of person to cheat on someone? Wow, that’s a boost of confidence right there.”

Cas laughed harshly. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Dean. If you didn’t get her for yourself, then why was she there, huh?”

“For you, jackass!” Dean yelled, his fingers curling into fists. “I hired her for you!”  

Cas’s next argument came up short and he paused. “Wait...what?”

“Yeah. I used the cash I won at poker to get this room and hire Abaddon. I did it for you, and you think that I’m cheating on your sister? That’s rich.”

Cas frowned back at Dean and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I apologize for that, but...I don’t want Abaddon. You can just ask her to give you the money back and let her leave.”

Dean gaped back at him and shook his head. “What is up with you? Dammit Cas, I’ve tried to hook you up with at least ten girls on this trip and nothing so I thought that maybe you’d just want a one night stand, y’know? I was trying to be a good friend.”

A good friend? In what world was getting a prostitute without permission being a good friend? All of Cas’s untouched frustration came back when he looked at Dean. Despite denying any woman who came his way, despite acting uncomfortable around women when they came around, Dean didn’t get it. Cas couldn’t, wouldn’t, live in the closet anymore.

“No, I don’t buy that,” Cas replied. “If you really were a good friend, you’d ask me if I wanted to sleep with someone before forcing it on me. You’d ask ‘Hey Cas, why don’t you wanna go out with the girls I set you up with?’” He leaned in close to Dean’s ear and whispered the words. “You’d know that I. Am. Gay.”

The atmosphere around them changed drastically then. He leaned back and saw Dean’s face running through the news in his head. Those green eyes that he’d come to know so well flickered back and forth between Cas’s face and the wall behind him. His whole body began to slump as the anger fizzled out between them, and Cas even stepped back so he could give Dean a little bit of space.

“No…” he whispered as he brought a hand up to run through his hair. “No, you can’t be gay.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

“No…you can’t be gay, Cas! You can’t! Only broken people are gay, not guys like you! C’mon, this is a phase, right? You’ll get over it?”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious right now?”

Dean looked over to him and shrugged. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Cas couldn’t believe it. He thought, no, he believed that Dean would be different from John. He thought that the progressiveness of the nineties would’ve overcome the conservative fifties that John grew up in. He thought that their friendship could upstand anything.

Now where were they?

“I can’t deal with you right now,” Cas got out through clenched teeth. “You’re the broken one, not me.”

Dean’s eyes widened at his words. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! What are you? You’re just trying to be a clone of your father. Is anything about you just yours? The Impala? John’s. Your leather jacket? John’s. That notebook we’ve been carrying around? John’s. Your homophobic attitude? John’s! Why are you trying to please a man who isn’t even here, Dean? A man who was a shitty father to you and Sam? Why?”

“Don’t you go and badmouth my dad!” Dean yelled as he grabbed the lapels of Cas’s jacket and slammed him against the door. “He was a great man, one of the best, and you can’t just insult him like that-“

“Oh yeah? Well tell him that. He insulted me first by turning you into a judgmental prick!”

The air was buzzing around them and by then a few passerby had convened. Of course no one intervened; everyone was always up for a good fight, after all.

“Cas, I swear if you talk back one more time-“

“He was an asshole! He was an asshole! He was an ass-“

The punch Dean threw knocked him back and Cas hissed in pain.. He threw his hand up to block the next blow, and then shoved Dean back into the wall.

“The weirdo has you in quite the position right now. You should show me some respect.”

Dean glared back at him from under his eyelashes and growled in Cas’s face. “Screw off, Cas. Just go to Yale and never come back. Screw off because I don’t hang around with disgusting _faggots_ like yourself.”

The fight drained out of Cas. The words drove through his body and melded with his bones. Faggot. The word was already hurtful, but coming from Dean it was like someone branded him with the term.

It took everything Cas had to respond. “You’re the disgusting one,” Cas said through clenched teeth. “Dean Winchester, you’re a coward and I never want to see you again.”

“Fine by me,” Dean replied coldly, and then shoved Cas away as he walked back into the room. Before Cas had the chance to turn away, Dean appeared again with Cas’s duffle. He threw it out the door and it thumped against Cas’s feet.  

“I hope you change one day,” Cas whispered, then picked up the duffle and turned away.

It was only when he heard the door click shut behind him that he finally allowed himself to break down.

He didn’t know where he would go. Dean was his ride home, and it wasn’t like he had any money to get a plane ticket back to Lawrence. And even then, Cas didn’t know if he could go back to Lawrence. It wasn’t a big town. He’d run into Dean everywhere he went, and that was not an option. Thinking of Dean’s face just filled him with agony; who knows what Cas would feel if he actually saw him again. It became clear to him that his options were limited, until Cas remembered the business card in his pocket.

With uneasy hands, Cas fished the folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and took the elevator down to the lobby. Once the receptionist let him use the phone, he carefully dialed the number and let the tears fall.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Alfie?”

“ _Castiel? What’s wrong?_ ”

Cas couldn’t hide the cries that were wracking his body. “I need a favor. Can you help?”

“ _Of course, Castiel. What do you need?_ ”

Cas reached down into his duffle bag and pulled out his acceptance letter from Yale. “I need you to get me on the next train to New Haven.”

* * *

_ Present Day _

Cas was _drunk_.

He wasn’t going to drink more than a few beers, but somehow Dean convinced him to choose whiskey over and over again, and the more inebriated he got the less he wanted to resist. Dean was equally as hammered, downing one glass after the other as they played baccarat, a game that Gabriel taught Cas as a teen. He kept winning the game, and Dean would give him a new glass every time he was victorious.

“This is great!” Cas yelled as he ran his fingers through the chips. “I’m gunna be sooooooo rich,” he slurred.

“Cas…you’re so great. The best there ever was, ever!” Dean mumbled as he threw back another drag of whiskey. “Hey, we should…uh…”

Cas raised an eyebrow and glanced over to the flashing lights in the corner. People were gathered on the dance floor, a mass of bodies that moved together to the music to form a den of iniquity.

He knew what he had to do. He reached out and took Dean’s hand, and then led him into the crowd.

Even though he was really drunk, everything felt heightened to him. The unfamiliar hands on his body didn’t faze him at all; instead he just lost himself in it, bumping and grinding into anyone who was nearby. The stench of beer and sweat didn’t put him off; instead, Cas reveled in it and breathed deeply as he danced.

But the best part was Dean. Dean, the man who once claimed that his dancing skills were at a negative ten, was twirling and twisting his hips like a pro. His breaths smelled like a mix of the whiskey and his toothpaste, and he was right up in Cas’s space, his body inching closer with every change of the song. Before long, Dean was flush against him, his hand landing on Cas’s waist and his eyes daring him to make the next move.

He immediately responded by leaning over to grip Dean’s waist. He looked directly in Dean’s eyes and began moving their hips together in a slow and sensuous dance.

Dean took the bait. He threw Cas a wicked grin and brought his free hand up to card through Cas’s hair, fingers getting caught up in the knots. Cas fought back by lightly thrusting his hips into Dean’s  just to watch his face. When Dean let out a low, wanton moan, Cas felt victorious.

Cas didn’t expect Dean to get that physical in a public place, so he was surprised when Dean slid his  hand around to Cas’s ass and pushed their already close hips tighter together. He couldn’t hold back the low whine that escaped when Dean began rocking against him, the friction igniting a persistent fire in his belly.

“You wanna play, Novak? Then let’s play,” Dean growled, and Cas didn’t need to be told twice.

He pushed Dean back a bit and then leaned forward and brought his lips up to Dean’s. Granted, when Cas imagined his first kiss with Dean it was not like this. He thought that it would be sweet and careful under the guise of a first date, not in a casino while they were both drunk off their asses and full of fire and passion and need.

 Dean responded to Cas’s advance by pushing their faces together, trying to meld them into one. Cas leaned back and opened his mouth, and soon enough Dean was licking inside.

Cas felt like he was going to combust.

With a gasp, Cas pushed away and flicked his eyes up to Dean’s. They were wide and blown with unfulfilled lust. With a confidence he didn’t know he had, Cas leaned forward again and began biting tiny marks into Dean’s neck.

“Cas!” Dean yelled, and it was probably a good thing that the casino was crowded with other drunk and oblivious individuals. “Not here,” he gasped out as he lightly shoved Cas away. “Bedroom. Now.”

The two of them immediately grabbed hands and fought their way through the crowds, and when they got to the elevator they pushed the button impatiently. It was probably a small miracle that they got there at all; they were tripping and falling over one another the entire time, and the world around Cas was spinning in ways it probably shouldn’t. That was the last thing Cas was thinking about right then though, because Dean was riled up and bouncing on the balls of his feet next to him, his hand rolling tiny circles into the top of Cas’s.

When they finally were able to board, Dean didn’t waste any time in punching the number for the top floor, and when the doors closed Dean was on him again, lips capturing his with a fiery need. It was too chaste for Cas though, not passionate enough. He ended up bringing up his hands and pushing Dean against the wall, grunting when the elevator jumped at the impact.

“Need you,” Cas brokenly whispered as he began playing with the buttons of his shirt. “Need you, Dean.”

“Almost there,” Dean whispered back, and then the ping of the elevator had them practically running towards their room. Cas fumbled in his pocket for the keycard, and once his hands got a hold of it he pushed it into the lock. The buzzing of the lock opening was like music to his ears, and when the door clicked open they fell through it, hands and lips everywhere.

“Take off your clothes,” Cas demanded, and Dean wasn’t one to argue. Together they began undressing, fingers stumbling over ties and buttons and belts until there was little fabric left between them. Then, carefully, Cas brought Dean over to the bed.

“Y’know…” Cas got out, “we can stop if it-“

“I want this, Cas,” Dean groaned as he flicked his eyes up at him. “I want you.”

There was a tiny part of Cas that doubted that what they were about to do was the right thing. They agreed to take it slow, and this was anything but. And yet…it all felt right. Dean was willing, Cas was willing, so what was stopping them?

“I want you too,” Cas responded. “Are you…ready for this?”

Dean leaned up to kiss Cas on the lips. “Yes, Cas, yes. I’m ready. Please.”

Cas took a breath and kissed Dean back. “Then let’s do this.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Present Day_

When Dean cracked his eyes open the next morning, he wanted to close them again. The hangover was raging through his body, and it took all the effort he had to get up and wipe away the sleep that was still lingering in his eyes. A quick look out the window determined that it was daytime, and he threw off the covers with a groan and rolled over to find a very naked Cas asleep in his bed.

_Wait…what?_

He jumped back and looked around the room. Clothes were strewn across the floor and when he looked down, there were imprints of fingers on his hip bones with hickeys to match. He stumbled over to a mirror and saw markings all up and down his neck. Everything was hazy and blurry around the edges, and when the room began to spin it didn’t take long for Dean to fall back into the bed and curl up in the covers again.

What happened last night? he vaguely wondered.

When he felt Cas’s foot brush against his, everything came back to him. The casino, the whiskey, the dancing and kissing and biting.

The sex. They, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, had passionate, lust filled sex last night.

“Well, crap,” Dean whispered under his breath, and with a wary eye he glanced over at Cas. Underneath the covers, Cas was completely asleep. His eyelids fluttered as he dreamed and it would’ve been nice if they were in a different place, a different time. Now, all it did was remind Dean that he crossed his own boundaries last night, that he broke the rule he was determined to follow. He promised himself that he’d take to slow, wade into these new waters with caution. Even though Dean was falling, no, totally in love with Cas, there was still the distant, echoing voice of his father telling him that it was wrong. He despised it, wished that his father’s training would finally cease, and yet…the doubt was still in his mind. What if it was dirty like his father believed? What if it did make him less than a man?

…What if his father was looking down on him right now in shame?

Suddenly, Dean felt like he was nine again, hearing his father using a homophobic slur for the first time during a football game. He felt like he was thirteen and growing curious about what it would be like to feel attracted to another boy, and when his dad found him looking up pictures of actors in Mom’s tabloid magazines he ripped it from his hands and put a baseball there instead. He felt like he was fifteen and was kissing Alistair Descartes in the beat up tree fort behind their house, only to be found out by John and slapped into submission. He felt like he was sixteen again, convincing himself that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, like men, because his father was now sick and he couldn’t let him down in his final years. He felt like he was seventeen, hooking up with women left and right, only to feel utterly confused because he loved the sex, but felt no romantic connection to the girls. He felt like he was eighteen, trying not to cry at his father’s funeral because ‘Winchester men don’t cry, Dean.’

He felt like he was eighteen and back at this very hotel room, lost and confused about the then boy, now man, lying next to him in bed. He felt like he was once again faced with a crossroad, one going towards Cas and the other away. Goodness, he wanted nothing more than to run down the lane with Cas and jump headfirst into whatever this life would be like. He wanted to figure things out with his best friend, he wanted to have more nights of intense kisses and needy touches, he wanted to have a life with Cas, he realized quickly.

And yet…there it was, that persistent, loathing voice echoing back the words he heard when he kissed Alistair.

_Gay men are not real men, Dean. Winchester men are not gay. If I catch you with another boy again, there will be hell to pay. You’ll let down this entire family. I’ll be disappointed in you. Your mom will be disappointed in you._

_Sammy will be disappointed in you._

The words replayed in his head once again, and Dean knew that he made his decision. Instead of curling back into the covers like he wanted, Dean threw on a pair of jeans and his collared shirt from yesterday, getting ready to leave Cas behind once again. He didn’t want to, but he needed to.

Daddy’s little soldier always obeyed orders.

He tried to work quickly so Cas wouldn’t have to see him leave. The clothes that were on the floor were thrown aside as Dean tried to find anything that belonged to him. Apparently they were too eager last night to put things back in proper places. He found his watch laying on the bedside table, and his wallet open on the floor. He found the tin foil condom wrapper inches away from the trash can, yet another reminder of the mistake that he made last night. He needed to get out of that room, he needed to go back to his familiar, one woman a night life, he needed to-

“Dean?” a groggy voice called from behind him.

Crap. Like a chastised puppy, Dean turned around and faced Cas with his bag clutched in his hand. He was looking on with a confused expression, and when Cas saw the duffle, he curled in on himself.

“You’re leaving,” he whispered, and Dean hated the way Cas’s voice picked up at the end, almost as if there was a bit of hope in his words.

“I’m sorry,” Dean replied. “I really am, Cas. We made a big mistake last night-“

“You’re running away from this,” Cas interrupted, and then he was fumbling for his boxers on the floor. “We’ve finally figured us out and now you’re gonna just leave? Really now, Dean?”

“I’m sorry,” Dean repeated, and this time there were thick tears building in the back of his throat. “I can’t be who you want me to be, Cas. I run when things get good, it’s who I am. I’m not good for you-“

“No, you don’t get to decide that,” Cas said angrily as he got out of bed, now clothed. “Is it not enough that I want you around?”

When Dean didn’t answer, Cas just leaned back on his heels.

“You’re afraid of feelings, Dean. That’s what is at the center of all of this. You’re afraid of not pleasing your father, just like the old days. You’re just afraid, Dean! Is that what you want to be? Afraid?”

“No, I don’t, but that’s what I am! I am who I was programmed to be! Why did you think that I lashed out at you back in ’97? It was because I was freaking afraid of falling for a man and not being who my father wanted me to be! Why do you think that I’m running now? It’s because I do not know how to let that go. There’s always a part of me that’ll look to please my father. It’s just the way it is. I don’t know if I’ll ever figure this whole loving a man thing. I may never get it. I can’t put you through it, Cas. I won’t.”

Cas looked over at him with open eyes, a little flame of hope still fighting to stay lit. “Dean, you don’t need to run. We’re figuring it out as we go, remember?”

No, he couldn’t let Cas gain hope over this. If they got together, Dean was convinced that it would never work. The words of his father would always be there, ready to send him away. Even if they went years without Dean falling back into his father’s ways, one day he’d remember John’s words and they’d just be at this same point again, never moving forward, only moving back.

“Goodbye, Cas. I really hope that you find someone out there.”

“No, Dean! Don’t go!” Cas called out brokenly, and Dean almost, almost turned around, almost tried to convince himself that he could push past the crap with his dad, but no. He wouldn’t drag Cas into this. Cas deserved to be happy. Cas deserved the world, not a broken toy soldier like Dean.

Pushing back tears, Dean got out one more ‘I’m sorry, Cas,’ before he turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving the man he loved behind.

* * *

Cas felt numb after Dean left. He didn’t know how long he was perched at the edge of the bed, trying to find cracks in the perfectly pristine wall. It must’ve been hours, maybe days, because housekeeping came by at least three times and knocked on his door. Cas didn’t get up to answer though, and eventually the knocking turned into one, insistent voice.

“Castiel? You in there, loser?”

_Gabriel?_

“Gabe?” Cas called.

“The one and only! Now, are you gonna let me in, cousin, or am I gonna have to use my own key?”

“Go away,” Cas moaned as he flipped back over onto the pillows.

“Fat chance,” Gabriel called, and when Cas heard the clicking of the lock he burrowed down even deeper into the covers.

Gabriel whistled lowly when he took in Cas’s appearance. “Whoa, you look wrecked. How long have you been laying here?”

He curled over on his left side so he could glare at Gabriel. “I don’t know, and you’re not helping. Why are you even here, anyway...and how did you get a key to my room?”

With a sigh, the elder Novak took a seat at the edge of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Cassy, I’m wounded by your lack of knowledge of my life! I own the Bellagio now! Bought it off the original owner after he retired to Fiji. Pays to be rich, kid.”

“Wait...you said that you owned a casino. You didn’t mention that it’s the most famous casino in Vegas!” Cas exclaimed, and Gabe just smirked at him.

“You never asked,” was his reply, and then he looked around the room. “But really, my job is hardly important compared to what you’ve been up to. Let’s see...your room smells like sweat and alcohol, there’s a condom wrapper on the floor...and yet I see no man around. Where is he?”

Cas glared up at Gabe. “That’s none of your business.”

When Cas quirked an eyebrow at him and didn’t reply, Gabe tossed up his hands. “Cas, enough of this. I know that you’re here with Dean-o.”

Cas quirked his eyebrows up at his cousin. “How did you…”

Gabriel waved him off. “Not important. Where is Dean?”

The name sent a jolt through him and Cas had to will himself not to cry at the name. “He left.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and then he turned sober. “Wait, like left left? Aren’t you two an item?”

Cas laughed humorlessly at the words. Whatever they were didn’t exist anymore, that’s all Cas knew.

“Maybe. He was…well…not exactly just a friend, but not a boyfriend either. Not officially anyway. We slept together-“

“Go Cassy!” Gabriel yelled, then brought his hand up for a high five. When Cas didn’t return it, he just let it fall back to the bed.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Cas growled in frustration. “If not, then please let me go back to my land of wallowing in peace.”

“No, I’m not gonna let you do that, Cassy,” Gabriel replied. “Because we’re gonna go get you your man back.”

“You don’t even-“

“Oh trust me, I know enough. Let me guess, Dean’s not over those commitment issues that you told me about back in the day? Still trying to please the man who only wanted a clone copy of himself instead of an original son? And I’m guessing that he ran off when things got too serious. Now, am I right or am I right?”

Cas blinked back at him. “How did you…”

Gabriel even had the decency to blush. “Okay, the reason that I knew you were with Dean was because I kinda found him in the lobby and we got to talking. Didn’t think he’d up and leave you behind though. Yikes.”

He gaped back at his cousin. “…Dean opened up to you about his problems?”

“Well…he was really drunk when we talked. Must’ve found the bar before I ran into him. Guess that whole ‘open book’ thing only comes out when the whiskey is in hand, huh?”

Cas ran his fingers through his hair and then rolled over to the side of the bed. “It’s the only way he’ll talk about the past, usually. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

Gabriel nodded, bringing a hand over to brush against his cheek. “He was pretty broken up over you, Cas.”

“That doesn’t fix anything!” Cas groaned. “If he wanted it to work out, he would’ve stayed. I know we went a bit fast into all of this, but he basically said that he loved me! Why would he do that if he didn’t mean it? And if he really loves me, why did he run? Why, Gabriel? Why?” Cas practically yelled into the pillow. “I just want to be with him, but I just can’t until he works out the past.”

He heard Gabriel’s loud sigh next to him, which made the pillow that hit him expected. He rolled over and glared at his cousin, who was throwing him an equally harsh look.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, he needs you to help him? Look, Dean-o is pretty bright, but it’s been eighteen years of the same shit and he’s still trying to get past it. Maybe he needs a friend, or a lover, or whatever the hell you two are to get through. Did you ever think of that?”

Cas sat up in bed and laid his head in his hands. “No,” he mumbled into them, and then brought his gaze up to Gabe’s again. “I never thought of that.”

“Then why are you still here? Go after him!” Gabriel insisted with wide eyes. He pulled the covers off of Cas and got up from the bed to rummage through his luggage. “You’ve got clean clothes, I can drive, and we’ve got a four hour ride to think about what you’ll say to the guy. It’s foolproof!”

He was still unsure, but Gabriel did have a good point. Maybe even if Dean couldn’t see it, Cas was what he needed right then. Maybe not as a lover, or a boyfriend, but maybe just as a friend. And he did promise that they’d make it up as they go…

“Okay,” Cas agreed as he accepted the shirt Gabriel was holding out for him. “I’ll go.”

“That’s the Cas I know!” Gabriel exclaimed. 

“Did he tell you where he was going?” Cas ventured.

Gabriel walked over to the window and pointed west.

“Los Angeles. Dean is going to Los Angeles.”

* * *

After Dean walked out on Cas, he didn’t leave the hotel. He knew that the expected thing to do would be going back to Lawrence, hooking up with one of the strippers at Angelz, and falling into the routine he once knew, but Dean quickly realized that he didn’t want that life anymore. He couldn't be with Cas, but he couldn’t be with the random women that came and went through Angelz either. Like it or not, Cas changed him, and going back to the one night stands he used to frequent was not an option, not anymore.

It was frustrating to say the least, because Dean knew that he was at a crossroads. He could go back to Lawrence, find Benny, and pretend that the past month had just been one long, confusing dream, or he could do what needed to be done and finally settle things with his father once and for all.

When it became obvious that he wouldn’t be able to move forward without taking that less traveled path, Dean found his way to the bar and ordered a whiskey, then a few beers for good measure. Eventually, the world around him became a hazy dream, and by the time the bartender told him to get lost everything seemed to be tilting and twirling around him.

He wasn’t exactly positive, but somehow he made it to the Impala after talking with a guy who looked vaguely familiar to him. He assumed that the guy helped him to his car, but he couldn't be sure, and at that point all Dean wanted to do was crash in the back and sleep until the drunkenness subsided.

When the sun rose in the sky the next morning, Dean cracked his eyes open at the break of dawn. His phone was perched on the edge of the seat and his head was pounding from the night before. When Dean pushed himself up from the weird position he was sleeping in, he let out a loud cuss as the muscles in his back creaked loudly.

He braced his fingers against the back of the seat and then pushed out of the door. When he walked, the world didn’t turn around him and he didn’t exactly feel like he was going to vomit, so that was good enough for Dean. Instead of heading back into the hotel and risk running into Cas, Dean just threw himself into the front seat and revved the engine, pulling out into the busy Las Vegas traffic, a destination already in mind.

The four hour trip to Los Angeles wasn’t as grueling as Dean thought it would be. The hangover wasn’t even that bad once he washed up and got a cup of gas station coffee running through him, and his father’s final letter was sitting on the passenger seat, a reminder that another person, the man that he loved, should be there instead.

It was noon when Dean pulled up to the familiar cemetery. He’d been there a few times over the years, usually back in the days when he was out visiting Sam at Stanford or when he’d be on summer vacation. It’d been a few years since he’d been able to visit his father’s memorial, but it looked exactly the same as he left it. The hill that John’s tombstone sat on overlooked the Pacific Ocean, and as he looked down, he could see families running along the shoreline with their surfboards and picnic baskets. The old oak tree still stood tall, shading the limestone from the stifling Los Angeles heat, and his grandfather and grandmother’s memorials were still perched next to John’s.

After Dean took the time to pay his proper respects to his grandparents, he took out the worn, folded piece of paper from his pocket. The words were worn and faded away from years of Dean going back to it when he was missing his father, but he could still make out the familiar last words.

_Dean,_

_If you’re reading this, then you’ve made it to your final destination. Los Angeles is where it all began for me. I grew up here, I met your mother here, your grandparents are buried here, and soon I’ll have a memorial here too. There’s a thousand things I could ask you to do once you’re here, but I’ll only ask one thing: if I’m already gone when you get this, then can you please visit my memorial? I don’t want any kids vandalizing it or something. I don’t ask for much, but please just come and say hi every once and awhile. I don’t want to be forgotten, even if it is inevitable one day._

_I love you, boy. I really do, and if you end up like the man that I trained you to be, I’ll be proud of you forever._

_Take care, son._

_Your loving father._

Dean huffed out a breath after he read the words and then crumbled up the letter. “Well, then you’re probably really proud of me now!” Dean yelled into the open air, and then chucked the ball of paper at the memorial. “I’m your little toy soldier, just like you wanted. I’m afraid of commitment and I can’t even be with the man, yeah Dad, the man I love, because of you! You ruined me!” Dean raged as the years of pent up confusion came to the surface. “I lost my best friend because of you for EIGHTEEN YEARS,” Dean practically screamed to the air, and a couple nearby scurried away when his voice reverberated through the lines of trees and marble. “And when I get him back? Guess what, Dad? I realized that I am in love with the guy but I can’t be with him because of you! Are you happy now? Are you looking down right now with that smirk on your face that you always used to wear? Do you want to punch me because I banged a guy last night? Bring it on, old man! Bring it on!”

“…Dean?”

All of the itching anger inside of him diminished at the familiar voice.

No way.

No, Cas couldn’t be here right now. He was supposed to deal with his crap before he went and found him again. But there he was, standing behind Dean with his hands in his pockets, staring at him like he was the old man who used to live next door that yelled at the birds.

“Uh…hi?” Cas whispered awkwardly. “Care to share what you’re yelling about?”

Dean felt embarrassed that Cas found him in that state. “How did you find me?” Dean asked bluntly. “I didn’t tell you where I was going.”

“Do you remember talking to a guy last night?” Cas questioned with a smirk on his face, and Dean felt the remnants of the night before coming back to him. “That was Gabriel, and he came to me after you ranted to him for a few hours.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I vaguely remember that…” he trailed off as his eyes flicked over to the tombstone again, just another reminder of what he lost. “I also remember him telling me to get closure, so I guess I have him to thank for ending up here.”

“He’s wise when he needs to be,” Cas shrugged.

“Why did you come after me, man?” Dean asked, because he just didn’t get it. Dean was always the one hurting Cas, and yet Cas was always the one coming back. How was that fair?

Cas walked towards Dean and laid a hand on his arm. “Because I don’t think you should go through this alone. Unlearning what your father drilled into you will take work. You need a friend for that.”

Dean gaped at Cas, because what was he possibly suggesting? That they forget about what happened between them? That they start over once again?

“I don’t deserve it,” Dean muttered under his breath. “I don’t deserve you. Why do you always come back to me, Cas?”

Cas let out one little laugh and then let his arm drop. “Isn’t it obvious by now? I don’t give up on the ones I love.”

No, Dean thought. Cas can’t love him. He’s terrible for Cas. He’s terrible for anyone. He’s got daddy issues higher than the clouds in the sky and nobody should have to deal with that besides him. He can’t accept the love that Cas is holding out because he just doesn’t deserve it, and the thought of taking it can only be described as selfish.

“Cas…I can’t…” Dean trailed off, but Cas just held up a hand to stop him.

“No, don’t try to argue with me. Just…let me talk first, okay? I’m owed that after our Vegas incident,” Cas said, and Dean just nodded at him to go on. He did have a point, after all. “Dean…you are not your father. You have your own ideas. You can be your own person, and if that person wants to be with a man, then so be it. Your father wasn’t the best man, and I know it’s taken you awhile to get that, but you don’t owe that man anything. You don’t. He tried to form you into a little soldier, a thing that he could control, but you’re not a thing, Dean. You’re a person. You’re not into football like your dad; I know that you spend your weekends watching TV because you’re a couch potato. You don’t work at a garage like your dad wanted; you’re a teacher of children. You won’t give your father your own grandkids, but maybe one day you’ll adopt a little boy or girl and they’ll be your own. You aren’t your father’s pawn, Dean. You are a person. I know you don’t believe that, at least not yet, but…” Cas walked into Dean’s space and reached down for Dean’s hand, “if you’d let me, I’d like to be the one by your side during this journey. I’d like to be the one to remind you that you’re tangible and important and real, because you’re the most important thing in my not so extraordinary life.”

In that moment, three things because extremely clear to Dean. One, Cas was not going to walk away, even when he got repressive, or moody, or fell back into his doubt. Two, he wanted Cas by him during this. Now that he finally got Cas back, he was so relieved that he didn’t walk away that the thought of not being with him was causing his hands to sweat and his pulse to rase.

Three, Dean realized that he was completely, one hundred percent in love with Castiel Novak.

“So…” Cas said after a few moments of silence, “what do you say? Can we start over again?”

“No,” Dean replied. “I don’t want to start over. Starting over always ends us up in the same place.” He brought a hand up to Cas’s face and brushed his fingers over his cheek. “I just want to pick up where we left off, and see what happens. Making it up as we go, remember?”

When Cas’s lips pulled up into a brilliant smile, Dean knew that he made the right choice. Sure, it may be rough, and not always simple or easygoing, but Dean was ready now. He was done running from what he always knew. He was done trying to please a man who never cared about his own feelings. He was done being the man he used to be, and was ready to step into the beautiful and terrifying world of the unknown. As long as Cas was by his side, he knew that he’d be okay.

“Can…can I kiss you now?” Dean asked timidly. “Because I want to move forward, not back.”

Cas didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s.

This kiss wasn’t like their first. It wasn’t filled with raging lust and unfulfilled desires. It wasn’t hot and heavy, wrapped up in the guise of sex. No, it was easy. It was what their first kiss should’ve been. Cas’s lips were dancing against his and tickled like feathers. His hand was caressing through Dean’s hair and their breaths intermingled as they went in for peck after peck. It was everything Dean could’ve imagined, and when it was over the two of them just leaned their foreheads together as they took one another in.

“Now only if we got to this point before Vegas,” Cas laughed lowly, and Dean followed.

“Eh, we’ve never been conventional. At least we got here, right? A couple of dumbasses managed to find their way to each other after all.”

Cas pecked another kiss on Dean’s lips and then leaned back. “So, where does that leave us?”

Dean looked into Cas’s eyes and turned him around. The Impala was parked a few feet away, and he gestured towards the car with his hands.

“I’m not sure, Cas, but I know this. We’ve got to get back to Lawrence, get you settled, and then we’ll figure it out. Oh, and I call dibs on the music choice.”

Cas giggled next to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Dear lord, I’m in love with a child.”

“And I’m in love with a dorky lawyer in a trench coat.”

They both laughed at that, and then Dean entwined their fingers together as they made their way back to the car.

“What do you think, Cas? Ready to get back to Lawrence?”

He glanced over at Cas and pulled them to a halt when he found the calculating gaze there.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” he asked, and Cas just turned towards him with a worried look in his eyes.

“I don’t have a home in Lawrence. I don’t have a home anywhere…” he trailed off as he realized this. “I’ll have to file for bankruptcy and live on Robin’s couch until I find another job. And how am I going to pay for food? How am I going to get around? I don’t have a car! Dean what-“

“Whoa Cas, will you calm down?” Dean interjected, and then he pulled Cas even closer to him when he found the other man clearly shaken. “You don’t need to worry about anything. You said you’d be there for me. I’ll be there for you, too. I’ll help you job search, get you into one of those career switch classes. I’m sure Sammy would be able to get you hooked up in the law world if you wanted, or you’ve got that teaching certificate too. Also…if you wanted to get out of Robin’s place…I dunno…you could…uh…” Dean began to stammer, and Cas just cocked an eyebrow at him. “Uh…you could come live with me?”

“Come live with you?” Cas asked. “What happened to taking it slow?”

Dean grinned. “We were never really good at that, were we?”

Cas laughed. “I guess you’re right. Well, if it isn’t too much trouble, then I’d love that. Thank you.”

Dean leaned over and entwined their fingers together. “That’s what boyfriends are for right?”

Cas squeezed his hand as they began walking towards the Impala. “Boyfriend? Are we using that term?”

“Well,” Dean said, “we’ve already had sex, gotten into a fight, and declared our love for one another. If that isn’t boyfriend material, then I don’t know what is, Cas.”

His boyfriend, _boyfriend_ , laughed next to him. “I guess you’re right there. Well then, care to go home, Dean?”

He just clicked open the lock on the Impala and gestured for Cas to follow him inside. “Yeah, Cas. I’m ready. Let’s go home.”

Dean revved the engine and took one last look at his father’s memorial before leaving. It felt like the pressure had been released from his back, and as he turned off onto the dusty road that lead back to the freeway, Dean didn’t look back. His father was the past. Cas was his future. He knew that now, and when ‘Fooled Around and Fell in Love’ came on the radio, it felt like it was fate.

He was in love with a man and he didn’t care. He was filled with a buoyancy he didn’t know possible.

He was finally free.

 


	8. Chapter 8

A normal day in the life of Dean Winchester went a bit like this. At six-thirty in the morning, Cas’s whistling from the closet would wake him up from a dream filled sleep. Instead of turning over like he used to, Dean climbed out of bed with a groan and found Cas debating over clothing choices, usually between a black tie or a blue one. He’d wish his boyfriend a ‘good morning’ and then would peck a kiss on his lips before he grudgingly got into the shower.

(The only time Dean actually enjoyed it was when Cas joined him, which wasn’t an option on school days. They found out quite quickly that they were too distracted to actually get clean, and more often than not would end up running into their respective classrooms right before the bell rang.)

After the stream turned into a cold pelting, Dean would turn off the water and then run into the closet to pull on whatever pants and collared shirt he could find.

(And more often than not, Cas would join him and comment about how _absolutely sexy_ he looked in those tight pants he liked to wear.)

By seven thirty, Dean and Cas were out the door with coffees in hand, and then by eight they were kissing each other goodbye in front of the Lawrence Elementary school entrance. Dean would run off to his first graders while Cas took the Impala over to the high school. Even though Sam offered to get Cas a job at his law firm, he turned it down to teach high school history instead. (“Law is my past, Dean,” Cas told him once they got back from their trip, “and just like how you need to move on from your dad, I need to move on from my infamy. Teaching will be a new adventure, and I’m sure you can show me the ropes if need be.”)

The days always went fast for Dean, knowing that he’d be able to see Cas again after his work shift was over. Even though he tried not to, he’d constantly be checking the clock during the day, counting down the hours until he’d be able to go home with Cas to their little apartment in the city. The years of visiting Angelz daily were just distant memories, and Dean was more than happy to leave that part of his life behind.

When three o’clock rolled around, Dean would pack up his bags and wait around for Cas to come pick him up. More often than not, Benny would wait around too for his girlfriend Andrea, a woman who worked at the high school as an art teacher. Once Cas and Andrea became friends, after school double dates were a staple in their daily routine. She truly was the perfect pair for Benny (both lovable, both full of quick comebacks, both _incredibly_ handsy in public), and Dean and Cas were betting on what they’d announce first, an engagement or a pregnancy.

By three thirty, Cas and Andrea would walk into the classroom, usually laughing about a funny incident that occurred earlier. Before Cas could even wish Dean a good afternoon, he’d be pulling him into a kiss that usually elicited groaning noises from Andrea and Benny. (“Get a room, you two!” Benny would always call, and then Dean would fire back with “Us? How about you two? Is Andrea pregnant yet?”)

Their double dates usually were simple things. They’d go out to a local coffee shop that they all liked, or would catch an early film at the theater. A lot of the time they’d have to pass Angelz on the way, and Dean would get a good laugh with Benny about their bachelor days. (Neither of them ever made a comment about wanting to go back, though. Dean couldn’t imagine it, really.)

After going out with Benny and Andrea, Cas and Dean would find themselves back at their apartment by seven thirty, usually watching some rerun of a comedy show they both liked. It would usually start off with cuddling on the couch…which would turn to kissing…which would turn to more exciting activities by the time night rolled around.

Instead of turning to a faceless figure at Angelz for pleasure, Dean now turned towards a man who was everything he could’ve wanted. Cas knew him inside and out, knew all the ways to draw low moans as they moved together, knew how to make Dean feel loved, knew everything about him. Every time they kissed or had sex, Dean felt himself fall more in love with the man in front of him.

When they reached the height of pleasure, Cas would always curl up next to Dean and mumble a little comment about calling the shower first the next morning, and then Dean would kiss his mop of curly raven hair before letting his eyes shut for the night, and so it went.

* * *

This was the typical cycle of Dean Winchester’s life, until the one day it wasn’t.

It was a Thursday in January when things changed. Dean’s eyes fluttered open to rays of light coming in through the window, and he turned over to peck a kiss on Cas’s cheek.

“Mornin’, babe,” Dean whispered as he turned over, but with a start Dean’s eyes flew open when he found no one there.

“…Cas?” Dean called, but no response rang out from the other parts of the apartment. After wiping sleep out of his eyes, Dean reached over for his phone and clicked on the lock screen.

_8:45 AM_

“Shit!” Dean called out as he jumped out of bed. He didn’t even bother showering even though he probably needed it after the night before. Without even looking at what he was putting on, Dean quickly pulled on a pair of already worn pants and a green shirt that didn’t look too wrinkly if you squinted a bit.  

Why hadn’t Cas woken him? Was something wrong at the school and Cas had to leave early? They weren’t on winter break anymore and President’s Day was another week off. There was no reason for him to not be with his class right now, and he felt the rush of anxiety when he couldn’t find his coat fast enough. In the end, Dean just threw on one of Cas’s and grabbed his keys from the coffee table, hoping that the Impala would be waiting.

At least one thing was on Dean’s side; the Impala was sitting on the street and had already been brushed off. The chill hit Dean as he pushed inside the car, but he didn’t have time to wait for it to heat up. His kids were probably running rampant if another teacher didn’t notice that he was gone, and he only hoped that one of the more responsible kids would’ve gone to Miss. Campbell down the hall once they realized that he wasn’t there.

When he pulled up into the school parking lot, Dean practically skidded on ice when he got out of the car and began running towards the entrance. It was a tiny miracle that he didn’t slide into the doors when he flashed his ID to the security cameras, and he didn’t even stop to say hi to the receptionist before he was taking off down the halls, heading for the familiar room that had been his for so long now. When room 2010 came into view, Dean jogged up to the door and ran inside.

“Sorry I’m late! I-“ Dean began, but he was brought up short when he took in the scene in front of him.

The kids weren’t running around. In fact, they were sitting in three perfectly formed rows with pieces of cardboard in their hands. Candles lit the room instead of the usual florescent lighting, and standing behind them in a perfectly pressed suit was Cas.

“What is goin-“ Dean began, but Cas just put a hand up to stop him.

“It’ll all be explained in a bit, Dean. I…just have a few things to say first.”

Dean could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. The cardboard pieces of paper, the candles, the suit…

They talked about getting married a bunch of times, but they both knew they were playing chicken with it. Who would propose? When would they get married? What time of the year? Where would they throw it? Would they get married in a church? There were a thousand questions that came with the topic, so naturally they avoided it all together and told themselves that when the time was right, they’d figure it out.

“Dean…” Cas began, “when we first met, you were running around your backyard with a bucket on your head, yelling that you were a robot,” Cas said with a grin, and Dean laughed at the memory. “I knew that I wanted to be your friend that day, and I’m glad that both of our mothers got along so well. We wouldn’t be at this point otherwise. I was your friend first, but I knew that I loved you a long time ago. When I figured out that I am gay freshman year, you were the first one I thought of telling. When I needed comfort, you were the one I always went to. When I needed a shoulder to lean on, you were always willing to offer it. I knew that I loved you long ago, Dean, and those eighteen years we spent apart were the blandest years of my life.”

Of course Dean was expecting it, but it still brought a low gasp out of his mouth when Cas sank down to one knee and pulled out a box from his jacket.

“I don’t want to be without you again, Dean. I want you for whatever days we have left on this earth. I love you because you’re not afraid to stand up to people. I love you because you sing in the shower when you think I can’t hear you. I love you because you cook the best food, because you teach your kids songs about numbers, because you are brash and a little rough around the edges. I love you because you’re one of a kind, and I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you…if you’ll have me.”

Dean knew that his jaw was open wide, but he couldn’t get himself to close it. Cas turned around and whispered for the kids to flip the boards over. Will you marry me? was written out in children’s handwriting, and then Cas pulled a bright, golden band out of the black box.

“Well?” Cas asked, “will you?”

Dean wasn’t a crier, but who wouldn’t let a few tears fall at a moment like that?

“Yes,” Dean got out as Cas carefully pushed the ring on his finger.

The children cheered around them and Dean gathered Cas into his arms. The gold ring felt perfect on his finger, and Dean found himself glancing down at it like Andrea did when her and Benny got engaged last year. It was more than just a ring, Dean figured out quickly. It was a promise written in precious metal. It was the future, and as Dean looked down at he couldn’t stop grinning.

“I love you,” Cas whispered in his ear, and Dean leaned forward so he could leave a long, languid kiss on his fiancé’s lips.

“Yeah,” Dean replied between pecks, “I love you too.”

 


End file.
